luka
Well-known member
You can't of course, they're mutually exclusive as you know, though it's natural to want to.
A Brooklyn Culture Mafia
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- ..is that a scene emerging .or are you just happy to see me benedict arnold my hero blue balls in brooklyn brooklyn bestiary dasha nekrasova demonology does shaka knock one out to red scare do you think e-girl wanking like fuck all over her commie face fresh pond road hail girard hearts heal its not stalking its research jamaican voodoo gang from predator 2 on the outside looking in pass the rock pum pum portraits restraining order righteous narcissism shaved head vanguard simping for the revolution skidmarxism speaking on behalf of the working class sus is banging dasha the 20 hottest e-girls the colonies the water drinkers woke and broke xoxo
You can't of course, they're mutually exclusive as you know, though it's natural to want to.
They're all boring though.
sus
Moderator
Natasha Stagg (early 30s, F)
Got her break with Surveys, a debut novel about influencer culture online which was discovered by Chris Kraus and put out on Semiotext(e) in 2016.
The coming of age novel follows 23-year old Colleen, a mall employee in Tucson, Arizona, who rises to internet fame by blogging about her semi-famous boyfriend and recent move to sunny Los Angeles, CA. The protagonist's obsession for a never-ending stream of external validation from online followers as well as the constant grooming of her public relationship with her boyfriend has led many critics to describe the novel as a prescient first-hand account of the rise of the phenomena of social media influencers on Instagram and Twitter.[4]
Most recently, she put out Sleeveless, which chronicles the NYC fashion and art worlds, the way the two overlap. I didn't think it was very good, a couple interesting paragraphs in a hundred-some pages, pretty disappointing ratio. Nonetheless, people lover her and her Spike "Out of State" series, where she liveblogs her summers.
With Velasco and Phillips:
From an Artforum piece on NYFW that I think is pretty funny:
At my table alone were fashion icons Debbie Harry, Cindy Sherman, and Molly Ringwald; The Cut editor in chief Stella Bugbee; and the designer Todd Thomas. Even with all the attempts to connect fashion to politics, the night couldn’t help but feel lighthearted, buoyed by Justin Vivian Bond and Nath Ann Carrera’s acoustic covers (“I’m starting out with a very obvious choice,” Bond said, before a rendition of Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain”) and impromptu celebrity speeches (“This is all Rachel, actually, that I bought myself,” Ringwald said into an open mic).
Over dinner, conversation turned from the ketamine revival to raising teen twins. Alex Auder—who, despite describing herself as “some yoga instructor who lives in Philadelphia,” was the social glue binding together many of the guests—mentioned being asked to do a guided relaxation that evening, but only if “it felt right.” As dessert arrived, she took the microphone and began with a steadied, lowered voice: “I invite you to take part in this neoliberal meditation manifestation. Allow yourself to let go, into the clingy hand of the free market. Do you feel it?”
“No,” answered Debbie Harry.
“I feel it,” said Cindy Sherman, arms raised.
“You are now dissolving into little bits of human capital,” continued Auder. “Visualize green, from your consciousness—that is, in your head—trickling down into your pelvic bowl. Watch out! You might become incontinent. Don’t worry. It’s all an illusion. It actually trickles back up, ha, ha, ha. And that is how the state works.”
With Audrey Wollen, inventor of Sad Girl Theory (entry upcoming):
I read Hard Times in school.
linebaugh
Well-known member
Colorado is a cultural wasteland.
Ah right, that probably put you off for life. I myself can't look at any Orwell without feeling sick and going back to 4b with Dr sisson
sus
Moderator
You know what it reminds me of? That Bolano story, The Labyrinth. That tells a story based on a picture of some intellectuals socializing at a cafe
www.newyorker.com
They’re seated. They’re looking at the camera. They are, from left to right: J. Henric, J.-J. Goux, Ph. Sollers, J. Kristeva, M.-Th. Réveillé, P. Guyotat, C. Devade and M. Devade.
There’s no photo credit.
Literature brushes past these literary creatures and kisses them on the lips, but they don’t even notice.
Labyrinth
They’re sitting around a table. It’s an ordinary table, made of wood, perhaps, or plastic, it could even be a marble table on metal legs...
They’re seated. They’re looking at the camera. They are, from left to right: J. Henric, J.-J. Goux, Ph. Sollers, J. Kristeva, M.-Th. Réveillé, P. Guyotat, C. Devade and M. Devade.
There’s no photo credit.
Literature brushes past these literary creatures and kisses them on the lips, but they don’t even notice.
I didn't mind it. I just hate Britain, so I don't want to read anything to do with it. The grey extends to our literature.