I challenge even the most serious of rollerblader to not get a barnload full of tingles off this clip, and prolly borderline a tear or two
Kid Zoom or Ian Strange’s Suburban
Ian Strange: Suburban is a multifaceted photography, film and installation exhibition created by New York-based Australian artist Ian Strange. Since 2011 Strange has worked with a film crew and volunteers in Ohio, Detroit, Alabama, New Jersey, New York and New Hampshire to create, photograph and film seven site specific interventions incorporating suburban homes. The recording of these interventions through film and photographic documentation forms the basis of this new and groundbreaking exhibition.
I find it bizarre that The United States has a massive homeless crisis and a a massive amount of empty homes.
Hit this up at the Ian Potter Centre from a few days ago.
The Importance of Being Angry
By Martin Weigel
There is, it seems, an assumption out there in adland that being ‘curious’ is a desirable quality to possess.
Or at least claim.
Particularly if you call yourself a planner or – loathsome word that it is – ‘strategist’.
Curiosity does of course, have much to recommend it.
But if you want to be a planner rather than just a finder-outer-of-stuff, if you want to do more than peddle ‘insights’, if you want to move things forwards, if you want to be leader, if you want to change the world, then being simply being ‘curious’ just isn’t going to cut it.
You need to be cross.
Or even plain ol’ fashioned fucked off.
For curiosity is about wanting to know how things are.
It’s about wanting to look under the hood of things and discover their workings.
But being angry is about being dissatisfied with how things are.
And wanting to change them.
Being angry compells us to action.
Martin Luther King wasn’t ‘curious’ about civil rights.
He was angry at their absence.
Change comes from indignation that the status quo is allowed to exist.
Change comes from exasperation at the fact that the ways things are, are not the way
things should be.
Change comes from anger at what people are asked to put up with.
People aren’t ‘curious’ in Egypt.
And when it comes to our small part of the world, there is surely lots to be angry about.
Products that don’t live up to their promises.
Promises that are specious.
Marketers that knowingly pollute minds and bodies.
Businesses that cannot grasp the notion of service.
Businesses that haven’t woken up to the fact that being a responsible corporate citizen isn’t a sideshow for bleeding heart liberals, but is actually better business practice.
Businesses built on the back of dubious and conveniently outsourced labour practices.
Brands that choose not to inform the consumer of the human and environmental impact of their manufacture, consumption, and disposal.
Marketing content that barely conceals its disdain for its audience.
Marketing content that shamelessly peddles in tacit or explicit sexism.
Marketing content that pollutes our leisure time, our private space, and our physical environments.
The list needless to say, goes on.
And in all of this, curiosity will not help.
Because curiosity isn’t opinionated.
Curiosity isn’t dissatisfied.
Curiosity cannot marshall resources.
Curiosity cannot persuade and bring along others.
Curiosity will not keep you going when the going gets tough.
Simply put, curiosity just isn’t enough to help us with the things that really matter.
For – putting aside for one moment all the fancy talk of ‘engagement’, ‘participation’, ‘community’ and so on – what people really need (indeed, really deserve) is as Helen Edwards has written, better products, better service, easier lives, a cleaner world, and more health and happiness.
The purpose of our efforts is to help in that.
In ways both big and small.
Our purpose is to make people’s lives better.
And making people’s lives better requires vision, impatience and action.
So if we are to contribute to people’s lives, if we are to play our humble part in changing the world for the better, then f’fuck’s sake, let’s get angry.
Ready, Aim, Shoot!
Posted by Lucaites
Much of what we do here at NCN is a celebration of photography. And among its many virtues are that it slows the world down, indeed, it stops the world in ways that normal sight is often hard pressed to do—at 1/800thof a second, for example—inviting us not just tolookat the world around us, but toseeit, sometimes with fresh eyes. It operates as such in many registers, but sometimes it invokes what the philosopher and literary critic Kenneth Burke called a “perspective by incongruity,” literally encouraging us to “see” things in terms of things that they are not. Or perhaps, as in the photograph above, encouraging us to ponder the similarities between things that on the face of it we assume are altogether different.
According to the caption we are viewing a member of the Free Syrian Army who is simultaneously “pointing” his weapon and his camera at a “scene” in Deir al-Zor, one of the largest cities situated in the eastern part of Syria. Of course, he is not just “pointing” his rifle, and the purpose of the gun is not to so much to capture a “scene” as to contain or intrude upon a strategic space. And so, one might think that the language of photography somehow masks and moots the language of weaponry. But, of course, the language could be reversed as we might say that he is “aiming” his camera and “shooting” at his enemy. And if that seems like too much of a stretch, don’t forget how cameras have become one of the primary “weapons” in the war on terrorism—and more—surveying public spaces, authenticating identities, and so on. And indeed, if nothing else the image of the Syrian freedom fighter is a stark reminder of how entangled thelanguage(and, as it turns out, the history) of the camera and the gun are, each calling attention to the capacity of the respective technology to aggressively intervene in, capture, and control a situation.
There is no question that I would rather be “shot” by a camera than by a rifle, and I have no doubt that the world would be a better place if we could truly substitute “pixels for pistols.” But for all of that, we should not lose sight of the potential predatory power of the lens or the ways in which a camera can serve as a weapon, however good or ill the purpose to which it is put.
Just Jeans is definitely a flash of the orient.
I think her final question should have been:
'What makes you feel qualified to write this book?'
It’s all backfired on the producers of this silly show, as due to this interview Zealot is now a best seller. Ha!