bc:
van:
no, i'm searching for fellow humans, public people, defined
by more than their individual status, often based on Western
psychology and its ego as foundation, and looking for a group
of human beings, who are both unique and similar, and willing
to work for human goals, and not accept that individual humans
should carry their load for them on the large scale issues. but
in a psychologic whereby individuals are primary, and their
identities are that of 'men and women', with their humanity,
by default, a bureaucratic second, well, it is a futile pursuit.
i don't believe in paradise Van, utopia, just a better condition
for the lot of us. but no one person can do what many people
can do, if so inclined. but it is not in the present realm of the
possible. people start institutions, institutions output people
in the end. i don't even remember a government in my country,
for example, that was run by the people as much as the limits
of the bureaucratic system in place. it has its own agency, the
technological. 'our' and 'us' (including them) is the basis of the
state, of government, unless it is a totally privatized entity,
which i would not disagree nor argue with in these days. but i
love how any group-think comes off as a perversion, of what?
i wonder. of human goals, human efforts, working together, and
possibly giving up some luxury of individual opulence for the
betterment of all. nah. not gonna happen. which is why i am a
bit more red-in-the-face and a blush with anger and frustration.
it is like a broken heart, a lost love that can never be regained,
that of architecture, and an idealism based in realism. the people
just do not exist in any relationship to one another from which
to form a way to act together, on the necessary scales. it is too
difficult. too ludicrous. too futile. it becomes an individual and
nature. and fate. gotta love that. very Jeffersonian in a sense.
i have no universal plan, by the way, no best way. that is not
what i am about. last thing i want is to be in charge. but i do
not mind trying to organize the many facets for change, but
instead their is a naive and greedy stubbornness. and, also, a
broken-record of my own sad and sick voice, yelping for an
impossible change, a miracle. it is like losing one's faith, one's
belief, not once, but everytime that tinge of love arises for
what one holds dearest in their abilities to contribute, and yet
is denied by (the universe, one must guess) inertia and friction,
to become another in JYA's chew-pot of wanna-be has-beens,
who dreamed and lost. imagining architecture, only to have it
revealed in daily nightmares. total futility. total love, but futile.
so i made a mistake, i must admit, i tried. i tried again. and again
there is only nothingness. and it dismantles any hope of trying
again, as it is a destructive endeavor. everyone for themselves,
that is the golden rule in this age of competing mindstage sets.
if it is imperfect language, if it is grammer undone, if it is a
wrong attitude or prescription, if it is a lack of a bloodline,
if it is a lack of credentials, or the right or best credentials,
whatever. all the king's guardians protect the prize, the myth,
the belief. and i do not believe in this architecture. architecture
is so far behind the times it is ripe for bringin the past to bear
upon the present in horrific ways, because change is impossible
with a complacent populis. things (pragmatically) _could be so
much farther ahead, but for people's closed minds, institutional
control over ideas, of possibilities, dreams, and their actions.
i do not believe architecture has any force within its ranks to
rise to the occassion before us, 'unprecendented as it is', and
fight the great fight for architectural freedom. people content
with lesser things, as long as they get by, while others have
nothing, that's just part of how it works, so we are told. not
good enough, not refined enough, not perfect enough. fuck it.
architecture might as well be another name for archaeology,
and archaeology, architecture, as at least that profession is
doing what it says it does, which architecture extends in the
guise of creating cultural anew, while olding reconstructing
past lives, past ideas, not in the recycling sense, but in the
commodifying sense, selling a dream so surreal and destructive
and turning all eyes away from the core social responsibilities,
taking responsibility- that simple but damn hard thing to accept,
and to bear. wax on poetic while sitting in a marcel breuer chair,
eat at a 2nd tier restaurant while having a nice bottle of wine
and a fine cheese. emulate what it is to be successful, to succeed
middle-class like. sums up architectural school, where etiquette
is sustained by architectural elitism, a supposed intellectual and
hands-on discipline where the factory-working students come
out ahead of the class with some cult intelligence about what
the world is like, well, was like, 3 centuries or more ago. and
that is success in this world of U.S. and likely others. ahhh,
beauty, design, aesthetics. dress nice, talk proper, making
pretty enough things, be in a magazine, building as supermodel.
i have no faith in architecture nor architects. no belief that
the current ensemble can get a damn thing done- working to-
gether. it seems improbable at this point. so any atttempt to
test the waters, to see if yes, it may happen, it still could-
well, no, it is rejected in the extreme, not by the mundane
knuckleminded, but by people i admire, friends even, who are
equally enemies of anyway out beyond their own certainty.
so i give up. and i will continue to try to not give a damn. it
is personally not worth it to me. i lose. more and more, each
time i try to believe, each time i allow myself a bit of hope.
it gets quelched faster than i can recover from the descent
of dreams into nightmares, once again. and as all might read
this as a person named brian writing this, i write as a human,
individual and unique human, and yet common and ordinary
and collective humanity. and it is a lonely fucking place. so
if that is a definition of utopia or idealism, it is more than sad.
'how can they take on the world, say, if they have the complexity of
making another primitive hut for the dark ages of technological society?
van:
Are you (secretly) searching for a (non-tragic) Hero? One with
unchastened pride AND intellectual peace?
no, i'm searching for fellow humans, public people, defined
by more than their individual status, often based on Western
psychology and its ego as foundation, and looking for a group
of human beings, who are both unique and similar, and willing
to work for human goals, and not accept that individual humans
should carry their load for them on the large scale issues. but
in a psychologic whereby individuals are primary, and their
identities are that of 'men and women', with their humanity,
by default, a bureaucratic second, well, it is a futile pursuit.
>"___________" does not exist. without essence. or
if it does, its essence is not that bandied about in circular jerking of
adminstrations of .edu
peversions. institutions run people, is that not clearer than daylight?
no. it is night, and artifice, well, it is irrelevant for it is 'sacred
blight' to the true believing, make perceiving, that is the
professionalization of deceit.
institutus, past participle of instituere
<in-, in , on, +statuere, to cause to stand, set up, place>
my--of, belonging to, or done by me
our--of, belonging to, or done by us
its--of, belonging to, or done by it
MY is not enough. OUR/ITS is perverted.
You dismiss the individual, the small, mocking their simplicity.
The group you fix as perverted, dominated/dominative.
Neither measures up to some lilting, pure, standard set to
bring the world to rights.
Brain, how do you allow for movement in this trap you've set?
What ACT, what SIGN would signal to you the world is
moving toward paradise not squandered, ready at the right
time, each soul, to die in beauty?
//Van
i don't believe in paradise Van, utopia, just a better condition
for the lot of us. but no one person can do what many people
can do, if so inclined. but it is not in the present realm of the
possible. people start institutions, institutions output people
in the end. i don't even remember a government in my country,
for example, that was run by the people as much as the limits
of the bureaucratic system in place. it has its own agency, the
technological. 'our' and 'us' (including them) is the basis of the
state, of government, unless it is a totally privatized entity,
which i would not disagree nor argue with in these days. but i
love how any group-think comes off as a perversion, of what?
i wonder. of human goals, human efforts, working together, and
possibly giving up some luxury of individual opulence for the
betterment of all. nah. not gonna happen. which is why i am a
bit more red-in-the-face and a blush with anger and frustration.
it is like a broken heart, a lost love that can never be regained,
that of architecture, and an idealism based in realism. the people
just do not exist in any relationship to one another from which
to form a way to act together, on the necessary scales. it is too
difficult. too ludicrous. too futile. it becomes an individual and
nature. and fate. gotta love that. very Jeffersonian in a sense.
i have no universal plan, by the way, no best way. that is not
what i am about. last thing i want is to be in charge. but i do
not mind trying to organize the many facets for change, but
instead their is a naive and greedy stubbornness. and, also, a
broken-record of my own sad and sick voice, yelping for an
impossible change, a miracle. it is like losing one's faith, one's
belief, not once, but everytime that tinge of love arises for
what one holds dearest in their abilities to contribute, and yet
is denied by (the universe, one must guess) inertia and friction,
to become another in JYA's chew-pot of wanna-be has-beens,
who dreamed and lost. imagining architecture, only to have it
revealed in daily nightmares. total futility. total love, but futile.
so i made a mistake, i must admit, i tried. i tried again. and again
there is only nothingness. and it dismantles any hope of trying
again, as it is a destructive endeavor. everyone for themselves,
that is the golden rule in this age of competing mindstage sets.
if it is imperfect language, if it is grammer undone, if it is a
wrong attitude or prescription, if it is a lack of a bloodline,
if it is a lack of credentials, or the right or best credentials,
whatever. all the king's guardians protect the prize, the myth,
the belief. and i do not believe in this architecture. architecture
is so far behind the times it is ripe for bringin the past to bear
upon the present in horrific ways, because change is impossible
with a complacent populis. things (pragmatically) _could be so
much farther ahead, but for people's closed minds, institutional
control over ideas, of possibilities, dreams, and their actions.
i do not believe architecture has any force within its ranks to
rise to the occassion before us, 'unprecendented as it is', and
fight the great fight for architectural freedom. people content
with lesser things, as long as they get by, while others have
nothing, that's just part of how it works, so we are told. not
good enough, not refined enough, not perfect enough. fuck it.
architecture might as well be another name for archaeology,
and archaeology, architecture, as at least that profession is
doing what it says it does, which architecture extends in the
guise of creating cultural anew, while olding reconstructing
past lives, past ideas, not in the recycling sense, but in the
commodifying sense, selling a dream so surreal and destructive
and turning all eyes away from the core social responsibilities,
taking responsibility- that simple but damn hard thing to accept,
and to bear. wax on poetic while sitting in a marcel breuer chair,
eat at a 2nd tier restaurant while having a nice bottle of wine
and a fine cheese. emulate what it is to be successful, to succeed
middle-class like. sums up architectural school, where etiquette
is sustained by architectural elitism, a supposed intellectual and
hands-on discipline where the factory-working students come
out ahead of the class with some cult intelligence about what
the world is like, well, was like, 3 centuries or more ago. and
that is success in this world of U.S. and likely others. ahhh,
beauty, design, aesthetics. dress nice, talk proper, making
pretty enough things, be in a magazine, building as supermodel.
i have no faith in architecture nor architects. no belief that
the current ensemble can get a damn thing done- working to-
gether. it seems improbable at this point. so any atttempt to
test the waters, to see if yes, it may happen, it still could-
well, no, it is rejected in the extreme, not by the mundane
knuckleminded, but by people i admire, friends even, who are
equally enemies of anyway out beyond their own certainty.
so i give up. and i will continue to try to not give a damn. it
is personally not worth it to me. i lose. more and more, each
time i try to believe, each time i allow myself a bit of hope.
it gets quelched faster than i can recover from the descent
of dreams into nightmares, once again. and as all might read
this as a person named brian writing this, i write as a human,
individual and unique human, and yet common and ordinary
and collective humanity. and it is a lonely fucking place. so
if that is a definition of utopia or idealism, it is more than sad.