CHIROT ZERO ZINE--ANNOUNCING NEW BLOG

Dear Followers, Friends, fellow Workers:

I have just begun a new blog/zine called
Chirot Zero Zine A Heap of Rubble--
Anarkeyology of hand eye ear notations
---
http://chirotzerozine.blogspot.com
the blog is more exusively concerned than this one with presenting essays, reviews (inc. "bad reviews") , Visual Poetry, Sound Poetry, Event Scores, Manifestos, Manifotofestos, rantin' & raving, rock'roll, music all sorts--by myself and others--if you are interested in being a contributor, please feel free to contact me at david.chirot@gmail.com
as with this blog, the arts are investigated as a part of rather than apart from the historical, economic, political actualities of yesterday, today, & tomorrow
as with al my blogs--
contributions in any language are welcome

Free Leonard Peltier

Free Leonard Peltier
The government under pretext of security and progress, liberated us from our land, resources, culture, dignity and future. They violated every treaty they ever made with us. I use the word “liberated” loosely and sarcastically, in the same vein that I view the use of the words “collateral damage” when they kill innocent men, women and children. They describe people defending their homelands as terrorists, savages and hostiles . . . My words reach out to the non-Indian: Look now before it is too late—see what is being done to others in your name and see what destruction you sanction when you say nothing. --Leonard Peltier, Annual Message January 2004 (Leonard Peltier is now serving 31st year as an internationally recognized Political Prisoner of the United States Government)

Injustice Continues: Leonard Peltier Again Denied Parole

# Injustice continues: Leonard Peltier denied parole‎ - By Mahtowin A wave of outrage swept the progressive community worldwide at the news that Native political prisoner Leonard Peltier was denied parole on Aug. ... Workers World - 2 related articles » US denies parole to American Indian activist Leonard Peltier‎ - AFP - 312 related articles » # Free Leonard Peltier 2009 PRISON WRITINGS...My Life Is My Sun Dance Leonard Peltier © 1999. # Prison Writings: My Life Is My Sun Dance - by Leonard Peltier, Harvey Arden - 2000 - Biography & Autobiography - 272 pages Edited by Harvey Arden, with an Introduction by Chief Arvol Looking Horse, and a Preface by former Attorney General Ramsey Clark. In 1977, Leonard Peltier... books.google.com/books?isbn=0312263805... - # Leonard Peltier, American Indian Activist, Denied Parole And Won't ... Aug 21, 2009 ... BISMARCK, ND — American Indian activist Leonard Peltier, imprisoned since 1977 for the deaths of two FBI agents, has been denied parole ... www.huffingtonpost.com/.../leonard-peltier-american_n_265764.html - Cached - Similar - #

Gaza--War Crime: Collective Punishment of 1.5 Million Persons--Recognized as "The World's Largest Concentration Camp"

Number of Iraquis Killed Since USA 2003 Invasion began

Just Foreign Policy Iraqi Death Estimator

US & International Personnel losses in Iraq &Afghanistan; Costs of the 2 Wars to US


Number of U.S. Military Personnel Sacrificed (Officially acknowledged) In America's War On Iraq: 4,667
icasualties.org/oif/

Number Of International Occupation Force Troops Slaughtered In Afghanistan : 1,453
http://icasualties.org/oef/


=

Cost of War in Iraq

$691,188,637,164

Cost of War in Afghanistan
$229,137,844,021

The cost in your community

www.nationalpriorities.org/index.php?option=com_wrapper&Itemid=182

flickr: DEATH FROM THIS WINDOW/DOORS OF GUANTANAMO--Essays, Links, Video-- US use of Torture

VISUAL POETRY/MAIL ART CALL Cracking World’s Walls & Codes Concrete & Virtual

Cracking World’s Walls & Codes Concrete & Virtual


VISUAL POETRY/MAIL ART CALL
No Sieges, Tortures, Starvation & Surveillance
GAZA-GUANTANAMO-ABU GHRAIB—THE GLOBE
Deadline/Fecha Limite: SinsLimite/ongoing
Size: No limit/Sin Limite
No Limit on Number of Works sent
No Limit on Number of Times New Works Are Sent
Documentation: on my blog
http://davidbaptistechirot.blogspot.com
Addresses: david.chirot@gmail.com
David Baptiste Chirot
740 N 29 #108
Milwaukee, WI 53208
USA

Miss Universe Visits Guantanamo: 'A Loooot Of Fun!'



Miss Universe Visits Guantanamo: 'A Loooot Of Fun!'


The current 'Miss Universe' Dayana Mendoza (formerly Miss Venezuela) and 'Miss America' Crystal Stewart visited US troops stationed in Guantanamo Bay on March 20th, the New York Times reports. Here's Mendoza's account of the visit from her pageant blog last Friday. She says the trip "was a loooot of fun!"

This week, Guantánamo!!! It was an incredible experience...All the guys from the Army were amazing with us. We visited the Detainees camps and we saw the jails, where they shower, how the recreate themselves with movies, classes of art, books. It was very interesting. We took a ride with the Marines around the land to see the division of Gitmo and Cuba while they were informed us with a little bit of history.


The water in Guantánamo Bay is soooo beautiful! It was unbelievable, we were able to enjoy it for at least an hour. We went to the glass beach, and realized the name of it comes from the little pieces of broken glass from hundred of years ago. It is pretty to see all the colors shining with the sun. That day we met a beautiful lady named Rebeca who does wonders with the glasses from the beach. She creates jewelry with it and of course I bought a necklace from her that will remind me of Guantánamo Bay :)

I didn't want to leave, it was such a relaxing place, so calm and beautiful.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

LA Times: Obama prepares to hold Gitmo guys indefinitely, just as Bush did


Obama prepares to hold Gitmo guys indefinitely, just as Bush did

Guantanamo Bay detention facility for suspected terrorists

In yet another sign of political perfidy, the White House of President George W. Bush has drafted a presidential executive order that would allow that double-dealing Republican chief executive to hold suspected terrorist detainees indefinitely.

According to the president's intentions, such suspects could be detained for long periods of time, virtually indefinitely. Is this really what the nation voted for last November?

Oh, wait. No. According to an exclusive Washington Post/Pro Publica report this afternoon, it's the refreshing new Democratic administration of Barack Obama that's now preparing this new executive order to hold certain terrorist suspects indefinitely.

This is an obviously inspiring sign of the new style of leadership the Democrat promised and is finally bringing to the White House. As one blogger put it, George W. Obama. And it shows the kind of powerful political pragmatism with which the ex-senator from Illinois approaches this job at such a crucial and globally turbulent time.Strangely, it was leaked to the Post on a slow summer Friday afternoon when it wouldn't gain much attention.

According to the Post report, the 44th president is now starting to think that closure of the internationally-reviled Guantanamo Bay detention facility, which Obama announced with so much fanfare on his first day in office last winter, may be impossible to actually accomplish before the one-year deadline he set for himself before actually planning where else to put these prisoners.

In other words, fanfare aside, status quo ante. Democrat or Republican, same deal. Ex-Vice President Dick Cheney will be so pleased that the Obama-Biden folks finally accepted his advice to protect national security.

Another sign, finally, of real change after eight long years of the very same thing.

-- Andrew Malcolm

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Photo: Associated Press

DemocracyNow: Stonewall-web Stonewall Riots 40th Anniversary: A Look Back at the Uprising that Launched the Modern Gay Rights Movement

Friday, June 26, 2009

  • Stonewall-web

    Stonewall Riots 40th Anniversary: A Look Back at the Uprising that Launched the Modern Gay Rights Movement

    Commemorations are being held across the world this weekend to mark the fortieth anniversary of the Stonewall uprising that launched the modern gay and lesbian rights movement. The uprising began in the morning on June 28, 1969, when New York City police officers raided a gay bar called the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village. As the police began dragging some of the patrons out, members of the gay community decided to fight back, sparking three days of rioting. We play a documentary, Remembering Stonewall, with the voices of people who were there and speak with historian David Carter. [includes rush transcript]

  • Vazquez-web

    Trans Day of Action: "The Rebellion Is Not Over"

    Today is the fourth annual Trans Day of Action for Social and Economic Justice. A rally to the Stonewall Inn is planned for this afternoon to "let the world know, that on the 40th anniversary of Stonewall, the rebellion is not over." We speak with transgender activist, Mya Leilani Vazquez. [includes rush transcript]

  • Gay-flag-web

    A Look at the Gay Rights Movement Beyond Marriage and the Military

    Forty years after Stonewall, where is the gay rights movement headed? What does the focus on marriage equality mean for the goals of gay liberation? We speak with activist, writer and historian, Lisa Duggan. "It remains to be seen whether a call for full civil equality can produce mass mobilization, or whether it might soon be reduced to a call for gay marriage only, or worse, to the production of just another commercially sponsored gay parade," Duggan writes. "The devil will be in the details, which will be settled in the weeks to come." [includes rush transcript]

Stonewall rebel reflects 40 years after NYC riots


Stonewall rebel reflects 40 years after NYC riots

  •  
In this photo provided by Raymond Castro, shows Raymond Castro in the AP – In this photo provided by Raymond Castro, shows Raymond Castro in the mid-1960's. Castro was a regular …

NEW YORK – Raymond Castro was a regular at The Stonewall Inn in 1969, finding it a haven from a world where gay men and women could be arrested for kissing or holding hands in public. Inside the bar, where plywood covered the windows, warning lights served as a signal for couples to stop dancing.

When police raided the bar in the past for selling liquor without a license, patrons normally submitted to arrest or dispersed quietly. But on June 28, Castro recalled, people fought back.

As officers tried to throw him in a police wagon, Castro used the vehicle as a spring to push back, knocking them to the ground.

"They literally carried me into the ... wagon and threw me in there," recalled Castro, now 67. "It must've been the motivation of the crowd that inspired me to resist. Or maybe at that point enough was enough."

The several days of disturbances that followed the uprising at the bar in Manhattan's Greenwich Village became one of the defining moment of the gay rights movement. Thousands of people are converging on the city for gay pride events to mark the riots' 40th anniversary, while a bill is pending in the Legislature to make New York the seventh state to legalize same-sex marriage.

Castro said the demonstrations became a catalyst for years of progress allowing gays and lesbians to live more open lives — although he didn't see it at the time.

"I never thought 40 years ago that it would turn out to be much of anything," he said in a phone interview. "I had no clue of history being made."

Castro, who now lives in Madeira Beach, Fla., outside St. Petersburg, is far removed from Stonewall. But his name surfaced in newly released NYPD police reports documenting arrests during the riots. The reports had previously redacted names of some arrested on the first night, but were obtained in May under the Freedom of Information Law by OutHistory.Org, a Web site run by the Center for Lesbian and Gay Studies at the City University of New York.

Another name that appears in police reports for the first time is that of Marilyn Fowler, confirming earlier accounts that a woman was one of the main instigators of initial resistance to police.

"There are many witnesses to the Stonewall riots who say a woman, a lesbian presumably, played an important role in intensifying the resistance when they tried to arrest her and put her in the wagon," said Jonathan Ned Katz, the Web site's director, who recently obtained the documents. "It's a very important name to be discovered."

And for Castro, the name refutes other long-held beliefs that the Stonewall demonstrators were all white gay men.

"It wasn't just gays," said Castro, who was born in Puerto Rico and left in 1945. "It wasn't just white gays."

"You had straight people sympathetic to gays. People of the arts. You had people who had had enough (of the police). You had Latinos, you had blacks, you had whites, Chinese, you had everything. It was a melting pot. Young, old. Fems, butches."

Castro recalled being arrested with a woman on June 28 but didn't remember her name. He was arrested on a harassment charge, according to the police report, that was later dismissed.

"Defendants ... did shove and kick the officer ..." reads the report, one of nine NYPD documents Katz posted on the Web site.

It was hot and humid the night police officers raided the inn for selling liquor without a license. Police estimated 200 patrons were thrown out of Stonewall, according to a June 29, 1969, New York Times article.

After the raid, the crowd outside the Stonewall swelled to about 400, according to the Times account, citing police estimates.

Police were "attempting to leave premises with prisoners" when "they were confronted by a large crowd who attempted to stop them from removing prisoners. The crowd became disorderly," read a copy of the NYPD complaint.

Four police officers were injured, including one with a broken wrist, according to the Times, which described the scene as a "rampage" by hundreds of young men. Thirteen people were arrested that first night on charges including harassment, disorderly conduct, and resisting arrest, the story says.

As the raid moved outside, with people hurling coins, stones, garbage and insults at the police, Castro was somehow pushed back inside the bar, where police held him and others. After a while, two police officers escorted him out of the bar in handcuffs, he said, before he pushed back as he was escorted into the wagon.

There are little reminders of Stonewall in Manhattan's Greenwich Village today. The building was designated a national landmark in 1999, and currently houses a bar unaffiliated with the inn.

At the time, Castro says, patrons would usually knock to get into the Christopher Street inn, while someone inside peered through a peephole to size up the visitor.

"If you were one of us they'd let you in," Castro said. "If you were straight or you looked like a cop they'd say 'private club.'"

In 1972 Castro left New York City for suburban Long Island, where he met his partner of 30 years, Frank Sturniolo, in a disco. By 1989, the couple had settled in Florida, said Castro, who retired from his job as a decorator in an Entenmann's bakery specialty shop.

Castro, who is battling stomach cancer, marveled at the progress for gay rights over the past four decades. In the 1970s, major psychiatric associations removed homosexuality from their lists of mental disorders. The country has more than 400 openly gay and lesbian elected officials, according to the Gay & Lesbian Victory Fund, a political action committee.

Still, Castro and other gay rights advocates say, there's more work to be done. For example, the military's "don't ask, don't tell" remains in place. So does a federal law allowing states to ban or refuse recognition of same-sex marriages.

To Castro's disappointment, Florida voters passed a constitutional amendment last November banning same-sex marriage and civil unions, as did voters in other states, including California.

"I hope that I see it in Florida some day," he said.

___

On the Net:

New York City Pride: http://www.nycpride.org/

OutHistory: http://www.OutHistory.org

ED SANDERS : GLYPHS 1962-2009




>
> I'm posting this for Dan Morris
> Cheers// KS
>
> ED SANDERS : GLYPHS 1962-2009
>
> A rare exhibition of nearly half a century of Ed Sanders?s glyph-poems
> produced between 1962 and 2009 will be on display at The Arm in Williamsburg
> [Brooklyn, NY] from July 10 through July 31. An opening reception will be
> held on July 10th at 6PM.
>
> Building on a long history of utilizing a highly visible language that
> continues into the present, Sanders?s glyph-poems fuse image with text, and
> image as text. Political, personal, ephemeral, historical, uncanny, and
> humorous―the glyph-poems on display at The Arm appear in several different
> mediums, including original drawings, collages, mimeographed pages from Fuck
> You/ A Magazine of the Arts (1962-'65), plus a number featuring color
> images, and an artist?s book. Over 200 Glyph-works will be featured in the
> show.
>
> In addition, Glyphs 1962-2009 will feature new letterpress prints and a
> limited edition catalogue produced on location at The Arm.
>
> Edward Sanders is a poet, historian and musician. He is at work, since 1998,
> on a 9-volume America, a History in Verse. The first five volumes, tracing
> the history of the 20th century, have been completed and published in a
> fully indexed CD format, over 2,000 pages in length, by Blake Route Press.
> Another recent writing project is Poems for New Orleans, a book and CD on
> the history of that great city, and its tribulations during and after
> hurricane Katrina. He has been granted a Guggenheim fellowship in poetry, a
> National Endowment for the Arts fellowship in verse, an American Book Award
> for his collected poems, and other awards for his writing. Other books in
> print include Tales of Beatnik Glory (4 volumes published in a single
> edition), 1968, a History in Verse; The Poetry and Life of Allen Ginsberg,
> The Family, a history of the Charles Manson murder group, and Chekhov, a
> biography in verse of Anton Chekhov.
>
> Sanders was the founder of the satiric folk/rock group, The Fugs, which has
> released many albums and CDs during its 45 year history. The Fugs have
> recently completed a CD, Be Free, The Fugs Final CD (Part 2), featuring 14
> new tunes. Be Free will be released in late summer. Two of Sanders' books,
> The Family and Tales of Beatnik Glory, are under option to be made into
> movies. His selected poems, 1986-2008, Let?s Not Keep Fighting the Trojan
> War will be published by Coffee House Press in the fall of 2009. He lives in
> Woodstock, New York with his wife, the essayist and painter Miriam Sanders,
> and both are active in environmental and other social issues. Sanders will
> perform a section of America, the 17th Century, tracing the voyage of Henry
> Hudson up the Hudson River in 1609, at the Byrdcliffe Art Colony in
> Woodstock on August 8, as part of the 400th anniversary celebration of
> Hudson?s discoveries.
>
> Opening reception for Glyphs 1962-2009 on Friday, July 10th from 6PM.
>
> All inquiries may be addressed to:
> Daniel Morris
> The Arm
> 281 North 7th Street
> Brooklyn, NY 11211
> dan at thearmnyc dot com
>
> ==================================
>


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Art City: Calatrava, Homer Simpson, France, Breakfast of Champions and Walter Cronkite






 

Hello art and architecture lovers,

 

What's a starchitect like to do these days? Forget the big-bucks, big-bangs projects. Too garish for these economic times. Enter the sober, small, green and altruistic projects now in vogue.

 

Santiago Calatrava, in fact, just signed on for a university project with a tiny-by-comparison, under-$50 mill price tag that's designed to bring economic rebirth to a city. And, no, it's not UWM's School of Freshwater Sciences. But that begs the question: Why the (bleep) not?

 

No, I'm not suggesting it be him, necessarily. And I'm certainly not suggesting we put all of our design eggs in one Calatrava-esque, biomorphic basket. What I am suggesting is, well, this.

 

In other urban design matters, did you hear about the death of Homer Simpson at the hands of OnMilwaukee.com? No, not really. But if you missed it, here's an entertaining and telling tale of love, art, civic mindedness and the unfortunate consequences of city ordinances. (Which, I am hoping, this won't fall victim to).

 

On the art front, coincidence, art and a remote nook of France conjoin in this lovely little narrative from guest blogger Annie Jansen Jurczyk, who by day is the development director for The Rep. Bringing new voices to Art City is one of the delights of my job. If you are a writer with an interest in art, architecture or urban design and you'd like to guest blog, do drop me a line.

 

Breakfast of champions anyone? Tomorrow morning. Bright and early. And not the high fiber, sports-figure-on-the-box sort. We're talking art champions in the park with beloved blogger Artsy Schmartsy (just don't look public art). I'm hoping to stop in.

 

Looking for things to do this weekend? Friday night is a tough choice. There's an opening at the Portrait Society and the 8th annual Umali Awards at the Green Gallery West. Fair warning: the latter is on the silly, insular but fascinating side.

 

And don't forget to catch the Walker's Point show and the Twitter-inspired installation before it's gone. Also, the AWE truck studio will be creating art with kids down at Summerfest in the afternoons through Saturday. On Saturday, you might check out the monthly indie fashion market at Fashion Ninja or the summer bazaar at Taste of Art Coffee Bar, 4701 W. Lisbon Ave.

 

And finally, my thoughts go out to a giant in this industry and a symbol of an era, Walter Cronkite, who once presented me with an award and shook my hand.

 

Enjoy the weekend,

Mary Louise Schumacher

art and architecture critic

Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

Stay in touch via Twitter (@artcity) and Facebook.

Art City blog: http://www.jsonline.com/blogs/artcity

 

Art City is a newsletter about Milwaukee art, architecture and urban design. It is designed to keep readers up to date with the blog and what's in the paper. If you no longer want the newsletter, please respond to this email with "unsubscribe" in the subject line. My apologies for any inconveniences.

 

Journal Communications, 333 W. State St., Milwaukee, WI 53203 USA.

 

Copyright 2009 Journal Sentinel Inc. All rights reserved.

 

 



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Intercambio nº 21 de ATC´s--Artists' Trading Cards






Intercambio nº 21 de ATC´s (Artist Trading Cards)
Sábado 18 de julio a las 18.00 hs
El lugar de reunión será: "Casa Cabrera"
Dirección: Cabrera 3653 - Barrio de Palermo, C.A.B.A.
Tendremos además una barra con servicio de comida, bebidas y
cafetería calentita ideal para el invierno. Vení a intercambiar
tus Tarjetas de Artista con tema libre y a disfrutar de una linda
jornada junto a otros artistas.
Para más información de los encuentros de intercambios de tarjetas
artísticas visitá:
http://atc-intercambios.blogspot.com
Si deseás hacer alguna consulta o te interesa recibir información
para los futuros encuentros podes escribir a:
tarjetas_de_artista@yahoo.com.ar
¡Te esperamos!
Organizan: A&C, Edic. Amnesia, Chuchulita.



__,_._,___


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Invite to Caterina Davinio's Exhibition in San Francisco (CA, USA).


Caterino Davino is a great Visual Poet/Performer/Organizer of Events in Italy and Internationally-such as "island of Poetry"--at Venice Biennale
i sure wish i could be there!
if anyone goes and would ike to write a report please feel free to sen one here to share with all-
dbc

To: karenina-it@yahoogroups.com
From: davinio@tin.it




Art meeting and exhibition in San Francisco, June 19 - July 9 2009, with Visual Poetry & Performance Festival, at The Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts (MCCLA). The festival Visual Poetry & Performance presents a selection of works by emerging artists, curated by Patricia Rodriguez, Adrian Arias, Carolina Lucero, Sebasian Davila, and performance every wednesday.

Special guests:
Caterina Davinio from Italy, with a small solo exhibition (five photography works and five video works), Adrian Arias Curator.
Featured video: Il Nemico (Venice Biennale 1997 - VeneziaPoesia Collateral Project), A Story, with a sound poem by Julien Blaine (2003), Centomilamodi di... perdere la testa (Art Gallery Prize, Roma 1992), Knives (2007), Nature Obscure (2007).
Digital still works: Pink Roma, Roma, Aerodynamic Red, Memory 33-3, Surface2.

Visual poetry festival of Lima (Perù) Giancarlo Huapaya Curator.

Sponsor Visual Poetry & Performance: San Francisco Arts Commission, San Francisco Foundation, The National Endowment for the Arts, The Zellerback Foundation, The Gerbode Foundation, The California Traditional Folk Arts, The Brown Foundation, and other private supporters.

MCCLA
2868 Mission St
San Francisco, CA 94110-3908, United States


:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Karenina.it Ex-Press
The first Net-Poetry Project on line
1998 - 2009
Poetry in Phatic Function
News
http://kareninait.blogspot.com/
clprezi@tin.it
T: 0039 0341 282712

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MAX MIREBALAIS by Roberto Bolano from Nazi Literature of the Americas

Roberto Bolaño The Many Masks of Max Mirebelais
Translated from the Spanish by Chris Andrews

Roberto Bolaño's Nazi Literature in the Americas presents itself as a biographical dictionary of American writers who flirted with or espoused extreme right-wing ideologies in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. It is a tour de force of black humor and imaginary erudition. The novel is composed of short biographies, including descriptions of the writers' works. All of the writers are imaginary, although they are all carefully and credibly situated in real literary worlds. Authors from twelve different countries are included.


MAX MIREBALAIS, alias MAX KASIMIR, MAX VON HAUPTMAN, MAX LE GUEULE, JACQUES ARTIBONITO
Port-au-Prince, 1941—Les Cayes, 1998


His real name was probably Max Mirebalais, although we will never know for sure. His first steps in literature remain mysterious: one day he turned up in a newspaper editor's office; the next, he was out on the streets, looking for stories, or more often running errands for the senior staff. In the course of his apprenticeship, he was subjected to all the miseries and servitudes of Haitian journalism. But thanks to his determination, after two years, he rose to the position of assistant social reporter for the Port-au-Prince Monitor, and in that capacity, awed and puzzled, he attended parties and soirées held in the capital's grandest houses. There can be no doubt that as soon as he glimpsed that world, he wanted to belong to it. He soon realized that there were only two ways to achieve his aim: through violence, which was out of the question, since he was peaceable and timorous by nature, appalled by the mere sight of blood; or through literature, which is a surreptitious form of violence, a passport to respectability, and can, in certain young and sensitive nations, disguise the social climber's origins.
He opted for literature and decided to spare himself the difficult years of apprenticeship. His first poems, published in the Monitor's cultural supplement, were copied from Aimé Césaire, and met with a rather negative reception from certain intellectuals in Port-au-Prince, who openly mocked the young poet.
His next exercises in plagiarism demonstrated that he had learned his lesson: this time the poet imitated was René Depestre, and the result, if not unanimous acclaim, was the respect of a number of professors and critics, who predicted a brilliant future for the neophyte.
He could have continued with Depestre, but Max Mirebalais was no fool; he decided to multiply his sources. With patient craftsmanship, sacrificing hours of sleep, he plagiarized Anthony Phelps and Davertige, and created his first heteronym: Max Kasimir, the cousin of Max Mirebalais, to whom he attributed poems borrowed from those who had ridiculed his first ventures into print: Philoctète, Morisseau and Legagneur, founding members of the Haiti Littéraire group. The poets Lucien Lemoine and Jean Dieudonné Garçon came in for the same treatment.
With the passage of time he became expert in the art of breaking down the work of another poet in order to make it his own. Vanity soon got the better of him and he tried to conquer the world. French poetry provided a boundless hunting ground, but he decided to start closer to home. His plan, noted somewhere in his papers, was to exhaust the expressive repertoire of négritude.
So, after expressing and exhausting more than twenty authors, whose collections, although extremely hard to come by, were placed at his disposal free of charge by the Apollinaire French bookshop, he decided to let Mirebalais take charge of Georges Desportes and Edouard Glissant from Martinique, while Max Kasimir assumed responsibility for Flavien Ranaivo from Madagascar and Leopold-Sedhar Senghor from Senegal. In plagiarizing Senghor his art reached a summit of perfection: no one realized that the five poems that appeared in the Monitor in the second week of September 1971 signed Max Kasimir were texts that Senghor had published in Hosties noires (Seuil, 1948) and Ethiopiques (Seuil, 1956).
He came to the attention of the powerful. As a society journalist he went on covering the soirées of Port-au-Prince, with greater enthusiasm if anything, and now he was greeted by the hosts and introduced in various ways (much to the confusion of the less literary guests), as our treasured poet Max Mirebalais, or our beloved poet Max Kasimir or, as certain jovial military men used to say, our esteemed bard Kasimir Mirebalais. He did not have to wait long for his reward: he was offered the post of cultural attaché in Bonn, which he accepted. It was the first time he had left the country.
Life abroad turned out to be awful. After an unbroken series of illnesses that kept him in hospital for more than three months, he decided to create a new heteronym: the half-German, half-Haitian poet Max von Hauptman. This time he copied Fernand Rolland, Pierre Vasseur-Decroix and Julien Dunilac, whom he presumed were little known in Haiti. From the manipulated, made-over, metamorphosed texts rose the figure of a bard who even-handedly explored and sang the magnificence of the Aryan and the Masai races. After three rejections, the poems were accepted by a Parisian publisher. Von Hauptman was an immediate success. So while Mirebalais spent his days enduring the boredom of his work at the embassy or undergoing endless medical tests, he was coming to be known, in certain Parisian literary circles, as the Caribbean's bizarre answer to Pessoa. Naturally no one (not even the poets who had been plagiarized, some of whom could well have come across the curious texts of Von Hauptman) noticed the fraud.
Mirebalais, it seems, was excited by the idea of being a Nazi poet while continuing to espouse a certain kind of negritude. He decided to pursue Von Hauptman's creative work in greater depth. He began by clarifying—or obscuring—his origins. Von Hauptman was not one of Mirebalais' heteronyms. Mirebalais was a heteronym of Von Hauptman, whose father, so he said, had been a sergeant in Doenitz's submarine fleet, cast up on the Haitian coast, a Robinson stranded in a hostile land, protected by a few Masai who sensed that he was their friend. He married the prettiest of the Masai girls, and Max was born in 1944 (which was a lie: he was born in 1941, but fame had gone to his head, and since he was enhancing the truth, he thought he might as well take three years off his age). Predictably, the French did not believe him, but neither did they take exception to his outlandish claims. All poets invent their pasts, as the French know better than anyone. In Haiti, however, the reactions were diverse. Some saw Mirebalais as a pathetic fool. Others promptly invented European fathers or grandfathers of their own: shipwrecked seamen from German, English or French vessels, adventurers gone astray in some corner of the island. Overnight, the Mirebalais-Von Hauptman phenomenon spread like a virus through the island's ruling class. Von Hauptman's poems were published in Port-au-Prince, affirmations of Masai identity ran riot (in a country where Masai ancestry is probably so rare as to be nonexistent) accompanied by legends and family histories. A pair of adepts of the New Protestant Church even tried their hand at plagiarizing the plagiarist, without much success.
Fame, however, is quick to perish in the tropics. By the time he returned from Europe, the Von Hauptman craze had been forgotten. Those who wielded real power—the Duvalier dynasty, the few wealthy families and the army—had little time for the preoccupations of an idealized, bogus half-breed. Dazzled by the Haitian sun, Mirebalais was sad to discover that order and the struggle against Communism carried more weight than the Aryan race, the Masai race and their common destiny in the universal realm. But quite undeterred, he prepared himself to unleash another heteronym upon the world, in a gesture of defiance. And so Max Le Gueule was born: the crowning glory of the plagiarist's art, a concoction of poets from Quebec, Tunisia, Algeria, Morocco, Lebanon, Cameroon, The Congo, the Central African Republic and Nigeria (not to mention the Malian poet Siriman Cissoko and the Guinean Keita Fodeba, to whose works, kindly lent by the old, manic-depressive owner of the Apollinaire French bookshop, Mirebalais initially reacted with howls and later with trembling).
The result was excellent; the reception nonexistent.
This time Mirebalais' pride was wounded; for some years he withdrew to the dwindling, spectral Society section of the Monitor, and was obliged to supplement his income by taking up an obscure position in the Haitian Telephone Company.
The years of relegation were also years of poetic labor. The works of Mirebalais multiplied, as did those of Kasimir, Von Hauptman and Le Gueule. The poets gained in depth; the differences between them became more clearly marked (Von Hauptman the bard of the Aryan race, a fanatical mulatto Nazi; Le Gueule the model of the practical man, hard-headed and militaristic; Mirebalais the lyrical poet, the patriot, calling forth the shades of Toussaint L'Ouverture, Dessalines and Christophe, while Kasimir celebrated negritude, the landscapes of the fatherland and mother Africa, the rhythm of the tam-tams). The similarities emerged more clearly too: they were all passionately devoted to Haiti, order and the family. In religious matters there was some disagreement: while Mirebalais and Le Gueule were Catholic and reasonably tolerant, Kasimir practiced voodoo rites, and the vaguely Protestant Von Hauptman was definitely intolerant. Clashes among the heteronyms were organized (especially between Von Hauptman and Le Gueule, who were always spoiling for a fight), followed by reconciliations. They interviewed one another. The Monitor published some of the interviews. It is not absurd to suppose that one night, in a moment of inspiration and ambition, Mirebalais dreamed of constituting the whole of contemporary Haitian poetry on his own.
Feeling that he had been pigeonholed as picturesque (and this in a context where all the literature officially sanctioned by the Haitian regime was picturesque to say the least), Mirebalais made one last bid for fame or respectability.
Literature, as it had been conceived in the nineteenth century, had ceased to be relevant to the public, he thought. Poetry was dying. The novel was not, but he didn't know how to write novels. There were nights when he cried with rage. Then he began searching for a solution, and did not let up until he found one.
In the course of his long career as a society journalist, he had come across a young fellow who was an extraordinary guitarist. He was the lover of a police colonel and lived rough in the poor neighborhoods of Port-au-Prince. Mirebalais sought him out and became his friend, without a precise plan at first, simply for the pleasure of hearing him play. Then he suggested they form a musical duo. The young man accepted.
And so Mirebalais's last heteronym was born: Jacques Artibonito, composer and singer. His lyrics were plagiarized from Nacro Alidou, a poet from Upper Volta, Germany's Gottfried Benn, and the Frenchman Armand Lanoux. The arrangements were the work of the guitarist, Eustache Descharnes, who ceded his copyright, in exchange for God knows what.
The duo's career was uneven. Mirebalais had a bad voice but insisted on singing. He had no sense of rhythm but insisted on dancing. They made a record. Eustache, who followed him everywhere with an utterly resigned docility, seemed more like a zombie than a guitarist. Together they toured all the venues in the country, from Port-au-Prince to Cap-Haïtien, from Gonaïves to Leogane. After two years, they could only get dates in the dingiest dives. One night Eustache hanged himself in the hotel room he was sharing with Mirebalais. The poet spent a week in prison until the death was declared to be a suicide. He received death threats on his release. Eustache's colonel friend promised publicly to teach him a lesson. The Monitor would no longer employ him as a journalist. His friends turned their backs on him.
Mirebalais withdrew into solitude. He worked at the humblest jobs and quietly pursued what he called "the work of my only friends," composing the books of Kasimir, Von Hauptman and Le Gueule, whose sources he diversified, whether out of sheer pride in his craft or because by this stage difficulty had become an antidote to boredom, effecting extraordinary metamorphoses.
In 1994, while he was visiting a military police sergeant who fondly remembered Mirebalais's society columns and Von Hauptman's poems, he escaped lynching at the hands of a ragged mob, along with a group of military officers who were preparing to leave the country. Indignant and frightened, Mirebalais retired to Les Cayes, capital of the Département du sud, where he rhapsodized in bars and served as middle man on the docks.
Death found him composing the posthumous works of his heteronyms.
From Nazi Literature in the Americas. Forthcoming February 2008 from New Directions. By arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.

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Roberto Bolaño The Many Masks of Max Mirebelais
Translated from the Spanish by Chris Andrews



Roberto Bolaño's Nazi Literature in the Americas presents itself as a biographical dictionary of American writers who flirted with or espoused extreme right-wing ideologies in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. It is a tour de force of black humor and imaginary erudition. The novel is composed of short biographies, including descriptions of the writers' works. All of the writers are imaginary, although they are all carefully and credibly situated in real literary worlds. Authors from twelve different countries are included.
MAX MIREBALAIS, alias MAX KASIMIR, MAX VON HAUPTMAN, MAX LE GUEULE, JACQUES ARTIBONITO
Port-au-Prince, 1941—Les Cayes, 1998
His real name was probably Max Mirebalais, although we will never know for sure. His first steps in literature remain mysterious: one day he turned up in a newspaper editor's office; the next, he was out on the streets, looking for stories, or more often running errands for the senior staff. In the course of his apprenticeship, he was subjected to all the miseries and servitudes of Haitian journalism. But thanks to his determination, after two years, he rose to the position of assistant social reporter for the Port-au-Prince Monitor, and in that capacity, awed and puzzled, he attended parties and soirées held in the capital's grandest houses. There can be no doubt that as soon as he glimpsed that world, he wanted to belong to it. He soon realized that there were only two ways to achieve his aim: through violence, which was out of the question, since he was peaceable and timorous by nature, appalled by the mere sight of blood; or through literature, which is a surreptitious form of violence, a passport to respectability, and can, in certain young and sensitive nations, disguise the social climber's origins.
He opted for literature and decided to spare himself the difficult years of apprenticeship. His first poems, published in the Monitor's cultural supplement, were copied from Aimé Césaire, and met with a rather negative reception from certain intellectuals in Port-au-Prince, who openly mocked the young poet.
His next exercises in plagiarism demonstrated that he had learned his lesson: this time the poet imitated was René Depestre, and the result, if not unanimous acclaim, was the respect of a number of professors and critics, who predicted a brilliant future for the neophyte.
He could have continued with Depestre, but Max Mirebalais was no fool; he decided to multiply his sources. With patient craftsmanship, sacrificing hours of sleep, he plagiarized Anthony Phelps and Davertige, and created his first heteronym: Max Kasimir, the cousin of Max Mirebalais, to whom he attributed poems borrowed from those who had ridiculed his first ventures into print: Philoctète, Morisseau and Legagneur, founding members of the Haiti Littéraire group. The poets Lucien Lemoine and Jean Dieudonné Garçon came in for the same treatment.
With the passage of time he became expert in the art of breaking down the work of another poet in order to make it his own. Vanity soon got the better of him and he tried to conquer the world. French poetry provided a boundless hunting ground, but he decided to start closer to home. His plan, noted somewhere in his papers, was to exhaust the expressive repertoire of négritude.
So, after expressing and exhausting more than twenty authors, whose collections, although extremely hard to come by, were placed at his disposal free of charge by the Apollinaire French bookshop, he decided to let Mirebalais take charge of Georges Desportes and Edouard Glissant from Martinique, while Max Kasimir assumed responsibility for Flavien Ranaivo from Madagascar and Leopold-Sedhar Senghor from Senegal. In plagiarizing Senghor his art reached a summit of perfection: no one realized that the five poems that appeared in the Monitor in the second week of September 1971 signed Max Kasimir were texts that Senghor had published in Hosties noires (Seuil, 1948) and Ethiopiques (Seuil, 1956).
He came to the attention of the powerful. As a society journalist he went on covering the soirées of Port-au-Prince, with greater enthusiasm if anything, and now he was greeted by the hosts and introduced in various ways (much to the confusion of the less literary guests), as our treasured poet Max Mirebalais, or our beloved poet Max Kasimir or, as certain jovial military men used to say, our esteemed bard Kasimir Mirebalais. He did not have to wait long for his reward: he was offered the post of cultural attaché in Bonn, which he accepted. It was the first time he had left the country.
Life abroad turned out to be awful. After an unbroken series of illnesses that kept him in hospital for more than three months, he decided to create a new heteronym: the half-German, half-Haitian poet Max von Hauptman. This time he copied Fernand Rolland, Pierre Vasseur-Decroix and Julien Dunilac, whom he presumed were little known in Haiti. From the manipulated, made-over, metamorphosed texts rose the figure of a bard who even-handedly explored and sang the magnificence of the Aryan and the Masai races. After three rejections, the poems were accepted by a Parisian publisher. Von Hauptman was an immediate success. So while Mirebalais spent his days enduring the boredom of his work at the embassy or undergoing endless medical tests, he was coming to be known, in certain Parisian literary circles, as the Caribbean's bizarre answer to Pessoa. Naturally no one (not even the poets who had been plagiarized, some of whom could well have come across the curious texts of Von Hauptman) noticed the fraud.
Mirebalais, it seems, was excited by the idea of being a Nazi poet while continuing to espouse a certain kind of negritude. He decided to pursue Von Hauptman's creative work in greater depth. He began by clarifying—or obscuring—his origins. Von Hauptman was not one of Mirebalais' heteronyms. Mirebalais was a heteronym of Von Hauptman, whose father, so he said, had been a sergeant in Doenitz's submarine fleet, cast up on the Haitian coast, a Robinson stranded in a hostile land, protected by a few Masai who sensed that he was their friend. He married the prettiest of the Masai girls, and Max was born in 1944 (which was a lie: he was born in 1941, but fame had gone to his head, and since he was enhancing the truth, he thought he might as well take three years off his age). Predictably, the French did not believe him, but neither did they take exception to his outlandish claims. All poets invent their pasts, as the French know better than anyone. In Haiti, however, the reactions were diverse. Some saw Mirebalais as a pathetic fool. Others promptly invented European fathers or grandfathers of their own: shipwrecked seamen from German, English or French vessels, adventurers gone astray in some corner of the island. Overnight, the Mirebalais-Von Hauptman phenomenon spread like a virus through the island's ruling class. Von Hauptman's poems were published in Port-au-Prince, affirmations of Masai identity ran riot (in a country where Masai ancestry is probably so rare as to be nonexistent) accompanied by legends and family histories. A pair of adepts of the New Protestant Church even tried their hand at plagiarizing the plagiarist, without much success.
Fame, however, is quick to perish in the tropics. By the time he returned from Europe, the Von Hauptman craze had been forgotten. Those who wielded real power—the Duvalier dynasty, the few wealthy families and the army—had little time for the preoccupations of an idealized, bogus half-breed. Dazzled by the Haitian sun, Mirebalais was sad to discover that order and the struggle against Communism carried more weight than the Aryan race, the Masai race and their common destiny in the universal realm. But quite undeterred, he prepared himself to unleash another heteronym upon the world, in a gesture of defiance. And so Max Le Gueule was born: the crowning glory of the plagiarist's art, a concoction of poets from Quebec, Tunisia, Algeria, Morocco, Lebanon, Cameroon, The Congo, the Central African Republic and Nigeria (not to mention the Malian poet Siriman Cissoko and the Guinean Keita Fodeba, to whose works, kindly lent by the old, manic-depressive owner of the Apollinaire French bookshop, Mirebalais initially reacted with howls and later with trembling).
The result was excellent; the reception nonexistent.
This time Mirebalais' pride was wounded; for some years he withdrew to the dwindling, spectral Society section of the Monitor, and was obliged to supplement his income by taking up an obscure position in the Haitian Telephone Company.
The years of relegation were also years of poetic labor. The works of Mirebalais multiplied, as did those of Kasimir, Von Hauptman and Le Gueule. The poets gained in depth; the differences between them became more clearly marked (Von Hauptman the bard of the Aryan race, a fanatical mulatto Nazi; Le Gueule the model of the practical man, hard-headed and militaristic; Mirebalais the lyrical poet, the patriot, calling forth the shades of Toussaint L'Ouverture, Dessalines and Christophe, while Kasimir celebrated negritude, the landscapes of the fatherland and mother Africa, the rhythm of the tam-tams). The similarities emerged more clearly too: they were all passionately devoted to Haiti, order and the family. In religious matters there was some disagreement: while Mirebalais and Le Gueule were Catholic and reasonably tolerant, Kasimir practiced voodoo rites, and the vaguely Protestant Von Hauptman was definitely intolerant. Clashes among the heteronyms were organized (especially between Von Hauptman and Le Gueule, who were always spoiling for a fight), followed by reconciliations. They interviewed one another. The Monitor published some of the interviews. It is not absurd to suppose that one night, in a moment of inspiration and ambition, Mirebalais dreamed of constituting the whole of contemporary Haitian poetry on his own.
Feeling that he had been pigeonholed as picturesque (and this in a context where all the literature officially sanctioned by the Haitian regime was picturesque to say the least), Mirebalais made one last bid for fame or respectability.
Literature, as it had been conceived in the nineteenth century, had ceased to be relevant to the public, he thought. Poetry was dying. The novel was not, but he didn't know how to write novels. There were nights when he cried with rage. Then he began searching for a solution, and did not let up until he found one.
In the course of his long career as a society journalist, he had come across a young fellow who was an extraordinary guitarist. He was the lover of a police colonel and lived rough in the poor neighborhoods of Port-au-Prince. Mirebalais sought him out and became his friend, without a precise plan at first, simply for the pleasure of hearing him play. Then he suggested they form a musical duo. The young man accepted.
And so Mirebalais's last heteronym was born: Jacques Artibonito, composer and singer. His lyrics were plagiarized from Nacro Alidou, a poet from Upper Volta, Germany's Gottfried Benn, and the Frenchman Armand Lanoux. The arrangements were the work of the guitarist, Eustache Descharnes, who ceded his copyright, in exchange for God knows what.
The duo's career was uneven. Mirebalais had a bad voice but insisted on singing. He had no sense of rhythm but insisted on dancing. They made a record. Eustache, who followed him everywhere with an utterly resigned docility, seemed more like a zombie than a guitarist. Together they toured all the venues in the country, from Port-au-Prince to Cap-Haïtien, from Gonaïves to Leogane. After two years, they could only get dates in the dingiest dives. One night Eustache hanged himself in the hotel room he was sharing with Mirebalais. The poet spent a week in prison until the death was declared to be a suicide. He received death threats on his release. Eustache's colonel friend promised publicly to teach him a lesson. The Monitor would no longer employ him as a journalist. His friends turned their backs on him.
Mirebalais withdrew into solitude. He worked at the humblest jobs and quietly pursued what he called "the work of my only friends," composing the books of Kasimir, Von Hauptman and Le Gueule, whose sources he diversified, whether out of sheer pride in his craft or because by this stage difficulty had become an antidote to boredom, effecting extraordinary metamorphoses.
In 1994, while he was visiting a military police sergeant who fondly remembered Mirebalais's society columns and Von Hauptman's poems, he escaped lynching at the hands of a ragged mob, along with a group of military officers who were preparing to leave the country. Indignant and frightened, Mirebalais retired to Les Cayes, capital of the Département du sud, where he rhapsodized in bars and served as middle man on the docks.
Death found him composing the posthumous works of his heteronyms.

From Nazi Literature in the Americas. Forthcoming February 2008 from New Directions. By arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.

Chirot foto/essay: Transformation of the Electric Chair into the Bean Bag Chair via Jenny Holzer's "Projections"




Thomas Alva Edison, who had not been a supporter of the death penalty, became one, so that he could recommend the use of rival Westinghouse's A/C current as "unsafe" and worthy of use for electrocution and the introduction of the Electric Chair into American Folk Lore and Iconography. While Westinghouse's A/C would bring Electric Death and Torture, Edison's D/C was to be the Bearer of Light.



Janus headed, electricity is used for the art of torture, and for an art made out of the immense projection of declassified documents on strategically situated and important structures in the art capitals of the West.




Is the magnification and projection of the documents of power, at great expense, and requiring the mobilization of large numbers of people, staffs, public relations, investors, not so much an opposition to power, as its removal to an aesthetic realm, there to be consumed as an anti-dote to feelings of "powerlessness?" Or to be embraced as a sign of "virtue?" A “moral victory” over the “forces of darkness” as emphasized by the gigantism and super-amped mega-kilowattage involved in the Projection of Light? Or a further example of a subjection to Authority in all its forms--Political, Corporate, Judicial, Extra-Judicial, Institutional, Bureaucratic, Authorial & Artistic.

All of these aspects of the Authority of Power, the Power of Authority are manifested in Jenny Holzer's "Projections." Ostensibly an "oppositional" "critique" of Power, the "Projections" operate as masks behind which Power continues to act and penetrate further regions of consciousness. The spectator does not witness "opposition" and "critique" so much as their vanishing, hidden in plain sight in the gigantic illuminations of high powered and high financed High Art "Projections."

In her "Projections" exhibition at MassMoCa, Jenny Holzer has introduced the bean bag chair as a means of facilitating the smoothing of differences in the seeming contradiction between complete passivity and "opposition."

This is in keeping with the latest findings of the kinds of corporations which help to fund Holzer's exhibitions and "Projections."

"Bean bag chairs are becoming more and more widespread in the world of business as research companies have declared them conducive to a more productive environment than regular chairs."

To paraphrase the doxa of literary and poetic theorists, the chairs help provide the spectator/reader with the kind of "context" conducive to the "production of their own meanings," while at the same consuming those of the Brand Name (Author, Artist, Bean Bag Chair Maker, MassMoCa, Board members, investors, Directors, Curators, & etc.)





"Companies have recognized that fact that a more comfortable and less formal place to work actually encourages people to up their work rate as well as enabling creativity to flourish.

"Bean bag chairs are becoming more and more widespread in the world of business as research companies have declared them conducive to a more productive environment than regular chairs. As a result, bean bag chairs are replacing boardroom chairs. Mattel and other popular firms are manufacturing bean bag chairs to capitalize on this demand and their profits are going through the roof as a result.

“Businessmen, celebrities and children alike are all enjoying the delights of the bean bag chair today. There are thousands of designs to choose from and they are able to fit into any room of the house as a result. They can match existing décor, provide a room with a focal point and even be a conductor for productive business energies. There is nothing that bean bag chairs cannot do."



Holzer’s “Projections” and their aspect of "interactivity" eerily echo those of Albert Speer, created for Hitler’s Nuremburg rallies as filmed by Leni Riefenstahl.




The individual "letters/persons" become blocks, and then lines, of black and white, text and spaces, in which "the words of the people" become legible as the writing of One Will, to be read aloud back to them by Der Fuehrer, the Voice of the Will of the People.





"Companies have recognized that fact that a more comfortable and less formal place to work actually encourages people to up their work rate as well as enabling creativity to flourish."

At once working & creatively flourishing, the spectator observes the passing of the words of the lines of poetry as they move among degrees of legibility. The "words of the people" and its Will are transformed into a continual production and consumption of products provided by the "Projectionist" and the Makers of Bean Bag Chairs. The relaxed atmosphere provides for a cheerful appreciation and willing acceptance of the displays of Power. "More comfortable and less formal," reception of the paintings of the power point War images and memos downloaded from the NSA archives (where one may find a permanent Holzer Gallery entitled "Art Before Power") "pacifies" their threatening aspects and turns them into aesthetic re-productions of a fait-accompli.





Holzer text here is essay on Holzer's works by NSA archives director Thomas Blanton —image from NSA archives on line, “Art Before Power” Holzer gallery.

Much is made of the fact that Holzer’s “Projections” images come from the NSA Archives. Yet she herself has been found there for some time with her own gallery and an essay devoted to her by the Archives’ director, which originally appeared in the journal Foreign Policy. By using the Archives now, Holzer is advertising a site at which her works may be found, as well as the site at which she does her researches. She and the Archives are “each scratching the other’s back.”
Instead of making use of the “Democratic” Web, Holzer is utilizing what is in a sense in part her “Home Site.”
This “hominess” is “at home” with the “more relaxed, less formal” Corporate/Museum atmosphere created by the Bean Bag chairs. There the relaxed Museum spectator, at once more productive and a bit creative, is allowed to re-produce for themselves the “Projections” of marketing campaigns, enthusiastic reviews, their presence at a “production” and “spectacle” by a Big Name Artist with a familiar Brand Name which regardless of all the evidence is meant to trigger the floating concept of “opposition” while simultaneously exploiting the “charge” that the concept has for the spectator.
When the Lights go on—a Giant Idea Light Bulb goes on—a thought bubble—
And all find themselves, illuminated, electrified, thinking the same thoughts.






And leaving the Museum, having thought the good thoughts, they return to the business of the day, reassured that they, too, have bravely voiced their opposition, following the
Towering example of the Leader, the Great Artist, the Painter now become a Mover of Masses within the State-Corporate Institutional Structures, helping to preserve the Illusion of Freedom.









"She turns every surface into a page, she illuminates not only texts but perception, and by projecting these secrets into the night she transforms the words of power into transitory bolts of lightning." From Thomas Blanton's essay on Jenny Holzer

A People's History Of The United States - (The 20th Century) By Howard Zinn The complete audio book.

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A People's History Of The United States - (The 20th Century)
 
By Howard Zinn
 
The complete audio book.
 
 


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Dozens of Journalists among Jailed in Iran

By Margaret Bassett
Dozens of Journalists among Jailed in Iran
More than two dozen Iranian journalists are among the hundreds of people being imprisoned by the hardline government in Tehran as part of the violent post-election crackdown, according to Amnesty International.Foreign news journalists have been banned from the streets, and some foreign reporters have been expelled from the country. Two journalists reporting for foreign news outlets have also been arrested, according to Amn

On the Road to No War: End of 5-Day Journey, Civil Disobedience at Naval Station Norfolk

By Mac McKinney
On the Road to No War: End of 5-Day Journey, Civil Disobedience at Naval Station Norfolk
On Friday, June 26, 2009 various peace and justice groups gathered to end an extraordinary 5-day, 50 mile plus series of peace marches and vigils to military-related installations throughout Hampton Roads, Virginia to spread the message, swords into plowshares. The journey ended at Naval Station, Norfolk with a vigil and civil disobedience.

Obama needs to Make It Safe for citizens to ProtestBy arn specter

By arn specter
Obama needs to Make It Safe for citizens to Protest
To be consistant the President needs to make it safe for Americans to protest in America... he spoke out against the Iranian government's violent actions taken against protesting citizens over the last few weeks...

POLL: Is Iran Being Worked by the CIA or Do you Support The Protesters in Iran?

By Rob Kall
POLL: Is Iran Being Worked by the CIA or Do you Support The Protesters in Iran?

Where do you stand on the Iranian protests?

Our Political Prisoners By David Swanson

By David Swanson
Our Political Prisoners
Did you know the United States has in recent years prosecuted hundreds of people for political reasons? This is a crime, or rather a crime wave, that has thus far been addressed primarily by ignoring it.