My Friend, Marita, Balloons, and Modern Art

Or... You Call That Art? Part Two - Electric Boogaloo

While kicking around grad school at Oklahoma State, I went to Chicago several times with the Hispanic Student Association to go to the United Hispanic Leadership Conference. During one of those trips, we went to the Chicago Museum of Modern Art, where I came away with the idea that most modern artists are lazy hacks.

On display was a special piece done by Jeff Koons, who holds a special place of disdain in my heart. Koons' past work has included putting basketballs in fish aquarium tanks with posters of basketball stars hanging down from the ceiling as well as several vintage vacuum cleaners in a long display case. The latter was on display at the museum. He insists on being called an artist.

Interestingly (or not), Koons has actually been putting effort into his art by making large representation of balloon art out of fiberglass - mainly simple dogs and flowers. Still I detest him.

Other interesting things I remember at the museum:

- a room with around 64 oil drums filled with water, which held a disjointed reflection of the large image above it (a girl and her grandmother holding a flower if I remember correctly). I'm sure the message was something about how fractured our society (even benign parts of it) is.

- a room showing a film of an artist (who looked a lot like mutual friend of Marita and mine), Sarah Gonzales, destroying a hotel room, except it was running in reverse. So the pieces of a smashed drawer would fly together, bounce off the wall into the hands of the artist who would then place it in the chest of drawers it belonged to.

- a painting of people with fish heads sitting on a rock on a seashore (my favorite piece because it actually involved effort and artistic talent)

- and finally a stack of 1 foot by 2 foot pieces of paper with a 1 inch black border on them. The card next to it invited the viewer to take a few sheets as it turned the "sculpture" from something static to something dynamic. You can experience this art thrill on a smaller scale for yourself through the normal use of a pad of sticky notes.

So I just got back from Chicago, having gone there to attend a balloon twisting convention and visit my friend, Marita, who also does abstract and other kinds of art, but hers is actually cool, takes talent and work to put together, and several of her pieces can be used to defend yourself against assailants. I bought Marita a bag of balloons, a pump, and a beginner's book on balloons as a thank you for letting me stay with her to save some moolah. She quickly learned the basic dog and made several of them and started connecting them into a large mass of balloon canines. Here you can already see the brilliance of the artist in a new medium.

She sent me a note today saying that she did some modern balloon sculpture at a women's club meeting, and it went over really well.

Marita now needs to contact the Chicago Museum of Modern Art and get her artwork displayed. It will not need effort on the viewer for it to be dynamic as the air leaks out of the balloons, slowly collapsing the sculpture, reminding us of (and this should go on the card next to the art), "the inherent beauty and fragility of life on display all around us... unlike that stupid pile of papers over in the corner."

Conservatives' Gay Problem

Just what is the conservatives' gay problem? Is it that oftentimes their most vocal anti-gay advocates are caught trying to solicit sex in airport bathrooms or from gay hookers? Will it be the huge cache of gay pornography that Fred Phelps' family/church will find when he finally kicks off? Is it that no matter how much they fight against it, years from now, most people will think it's no big deal, and the people still speaking out against it will be lumped with the people who still speak out against interracial marriage?

No. It's none of that.

It's that they're continually making bad choices in the category of names that it makes it hard to take them seriously.

First example is the National Organization for Marriage (they're the ones who did the, "There's a storm coming," ad about gay marriage - look for it and its parodies on Youtube for 10 minutes of fun). Besides choosing a name whose acronym (NOM) is associated with LOLCats eating cheeseburgers, they launched an initiative called, "Two Million for Marriage," abbreviated, "2M4M." In personal ads parlance, this would indicate a gay male couple is looking for another male for a threesome.

Now we have a nascent political party called the Tea Party. Now, being anti-gay isn't really their main focus. The best description of the Tea Party that I've seen is essentially they're the Dixiecrats from 1948. Neither were/are really "for" anything nor do they have any actual policies or even ideas besides, "We lost the last election, and we're racist cry-babies." It's just unlike the Dixiecrats (who formed to stop desegregation of the military and society), they have a big Black bogeyman baptized Barack (alliteration).

However, being from the more insane branch of the conservative side of politics, it's safe to say they're not too fond of gays either. Which is why what they originally called themselves, "Teabaggers," is funny. Teabagging, without going into too much detail, is a sexual activity. Thus Teabaggers are those that engage in that activity.

I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure that someone HAD to know that, and either he didn't speak up or was ignored, which is pretty stupid. I mean, you're trying to start a political movement. It might be best to stay as far as possible away from sexual euphemisms. That's why various parties in America have been called Republicans, Democrats, Whigs, Bull Moose, etc. and not things like Horny Toads, Hookers, Fruits, or the Intercourse Party. (Although, a case could made that their meetings would have been better attended than the recent Tea Party one).

Which brings me to the latest example of what I'm talking about: The Teabaggers had their meeting in Nasvhille at the Gaylord Hotel.

You Call That Art?

On another discussion board, I happened along a thread concerning copyright law, which I won't bore you with. It was brought up in terms of the new Sherlock Holmes movie starring Robert Downey, Jr., and how the woman who supposedly owns the rights to Holmes isn't going to allow a sequel if they keep up the homoerotic overtones she feels Downey's Holmes is displaying. (I haven't seen it yet so I don't know anything about it).

As the discussion went along, a link to a documentary called, "RiP: A Remix Manifesto," was put up.

Here it is: http://www.hulu.com/watch/88782/rip-a-remix-manifesto

I honestly couldn't make it more than a few minutes in because during the opening scenes of a club DJ getting ready for a gig, the director/narrator played us clips of songs from the Jackson Five and Queen and asked us if we knew who the artists were, and apparently if we guessed the Jackson Five and Queen, we were wrong. No, the ARTIST was the DJ who goes by the name, "Girl Talk." See, the ARTIST took those two songs and did a mash-up using a computer. He is an ARTIST and combining a Jackson Five and Queen song is his WORK OF ART.

Bullshit, I say, and bullshit, I said in the discussion. Of course, people roundly attacked me for that opinion. I'm still right, of course, but it got me thinking about several things.

Firstly, one of the more eye-opening things (for me) that a professor ever said was how all works of art (especially theatrical) are not original; they're all based on something else. As he explained it, "You move the pinky of E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial, and the toe of Citizen Kane wiggles." Maybe not those two movies in particular, but you get the idea. The 1956 sci-fi thriller, "Forbidden Planet," is based off of William Shakespeare's, "The Tempest," for example. Recently, comparisons between, "Avatar," and "Dances with Wolves," have been made.

Secondly, what about sampling? Rap music is notorious for it, once being so prevalent a humorous news story was written that because all known recordings had already been sampled, a new rap song was forced to sample itself. Some rappers do overly-rely on sampling, but I guess what saves them is that they at least provide the vocals.

Diverging just a bit, we also have covers of songs. And from there, it's a small leap (for me) to balloon twisting.

See, when I'm asked for a monkey by a kid, I don't make a monkey design I came up with. I make Don Caldwell's monkey (Don is a "famous" twister) with some modifications. It's relatively fast, uses five balloons, is fun to watch being made, and looks great. I'm essentially doing a cover of Don's monkey and making money off of it just like a Beatles Tribute Band makes money off, "Yellow Submarine." I have plenty of other sculptures that I do that are originals, but Don's monkey is too good not to do, and he's given permission (in the form of DVD tutorials) to make that sculpture and many others.

So I don't think of myself as a hack like I do Girl Talk. I recognize what Girl Talk does takes skill, and that he entertains others in a fashion I'll never be able to, but he's not an artist. Am I? I don't know.

I've DJ'ed before - nothing on the level of what he does in clubs. I did not scratch records; I didn't have two turntables and a microphone; I did not insist on being called a stupid name like, "Girl Talk." I just played songs .

See, when I was kicking around grad school, I was members of the various Hispanic/Latin groups there, and one of them was a dancing club that taught every week and would normally be in charge of DJ'ing the groups' parties, the various members taking shifts during the night. The "theory" of playing songs that I was exposed to was that you try to find songs that would fade out and into each other well, so that when one song ended, you would fade it out as you brought up the other song. That way, the transitions aren't too jarring. Of course, being who I am, I would still sometimes ignore that rule much to the anguish of the club member who thought he knew it all.

So, there I was, connecting two songs by overlapping them. I didn't even use a computer to do it. I did it the hard way and actually had to rely on my own innate sense of timing. I did EXACTLY what Girl Talk does at its simplest form. If I were to call myself an artist because of it, I would say, "Its purest form." Are all those songs now MY works of art? No.

What Girl Talk and others are getting kudos for is that how they combine the songs is prettier, and I'll admit it, takes more work than what I did. It doesn't make it their work of art though, and it doesn't make them artists anymore than I would be an artist if I took the Mona Lisa and glued it into George Seurat's, "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte," even if I did use a really nice technique and put glitter over the connection points and made it look fabulous.

This February, I'll be going to Chicago to go to a balloon twisting convention that will have competitions for small, medium, and large sculptures. I'm going to be entering the large competition. Pieces of my sculpture will feature techniques learned from other twisters, which will be re-worked into my own design.

Whether or not someone considers it art or says I'm an artist matters to me. I will be putting in effort and drawing from hours and hours of learning my craft to do this and enjoying myself. I will not grab two other entries and connect them with a single balloon and claim it as my own. That would make me a hack.

Like Girl Talk.

Golf - Seriously, Let's Make It Better or Get Rid of It

My eleven suggestions to make golf more interesting.

1. Golfers after hitting a ball must run as fast as they can to where it lands, immediately hitting it again. Time to get through 18 holes will be factored into the score.
2. Rival golfers encouraged to chant, "Hey, batta, batta... scha-wing, batta, batta!"
3. Number of strokes to complete a hole = number of shots you do
4. Body-checking allowed
5. One club, that's it.
6. Go over par, lose a finger.
7. Sand trap promises but doesn't deliver on implied danger. Bee farm "hives" filled with bees will be placed in them
8. Order of players determined by pre-game Caddyshack trivia
9. Miss an easy putt, 10 lashes by leather-clad dominatrix
10. Screw the masters jacket, trophies, and giant checks... give out WWE-style golf champion belts
11. Golf cheerleaders consisting of Tiger Woods' mistresses.
    

Merry Christmas, You Douche

For the last 5 years or so, the so-called War on Christmas has been waged thanks to so-called, "Culture Warriors," egged on by head douches like Bill O'Reilly. The essential "problem" is that some stores tell their workers to wish people, "Happy Holidays," "Seasons Greetings," "Have a Cool Yule," or "Do You Want Fries with That?" Maybe not those last two, but the douchebaggery of getting upset with stores has been extended by certain individuals (read: uber-douches) who get upset with other non-store-affiliated individuals, who don't utter the magic phrase, "Merry Christmas," during December but other near-pornographic things like, "Happy Holidays."

Aside: In my mind right now, I can picture a story in an old, "Dennis the Menace," comic digest I read when I was a kid. It's a street scene of happy people around Christmas time, carrying Christmas trees, packages, etc., and the air is filled with shouts of not only, "Merry Christmas," but the aforementioned Satan-inspired, nation-destroying phrases of, "Seasons Greetings," and "Happy Holidays." If Hank Ketcham (creator of Dennis) were alive and published that book today, Bill O'Reilly would attack him and encourage his audience to boycott Dennis products, call their papers to drop the strip, etc., and they would do it... because they're douches.

Of course, not everyone who says, "Merry Christmas," is a douche so here's a handy guide to help you know if you are:

1. If you visualize Jesus putting a gold star next to your name in a book every time you say, "Merry Christmas," because you're a culture warrior fighting for Him, you're a douche.
2. If you say, "Merry Christmas," and HOPE to get back, "Happy Holidays," so you can unleash your anger at the poor schlub you think is secularizing the season, you're a douche. If you do this to a store employee making minimum wage, you're also an asshole.
   
3. If you make comments like, "Saying Merry Christmas is controversial," you're a douche.
4. If you're unable to conceive that there are other religions followed in this country who also have celebrations during December, and it would be nice to acknowledge them, chances are you're a racist douche.

Basically, what you douches are doing is worse than what the imagined, underground movement to take away Christmas is doing: You're taking the joy out of the season. You've taken the phrase, "Merry Christmas," which was not in danger of dying out, and instead of a "season's greeting," and a genuine heartfelt wish for joy you've turned it into a challenge, a dare, a chip on the collective shoulder of douches nationwide, and by doing so, you do the same thing to all the other greetings. Phrases that should be genuine wishes of happiness - and thus, the time of year they're said - are now being ruined faster by you douches than a Best Buy telling their employees to say, "Happy Holidays," to shoppers.

Good job... douche.

God? It's me, TlalocW. What up, playa?

So here's something I've wondered about for a long time. I'm sure you've thought it as a humorous aside or heard someone else make a joke about it.

The situation is when the quarterback/star center/pitcher for a team that's just won thanks Jesus for all their success, sometimes, almost literally claiming, "It wasn't me; it was the J-Man." The humorous aside, of course, is why does Jesus hate the other team so much?

That's the simpler example. That's a one time thing. The more complex similar situation is when a very successful person more or less makes the same claim. That all of his success is due to Jesus/God.

It makes me wonder.

Is he really stating that he's so untalented that nothing he has in life can be a result of some skill set he possesses?

If that's not the case, is it a case of false modesty, where he knows he's damn good, but he wants to appear as a good Christian so he gives credit to God and Jesus? Wouldn't that displease God? If it does, it apparently doesn't displease God enough to take away the person's good fortune.

If the previous two don't hold water, is he claiming that even with all his skills, success wasn't guaranteed, but God interceded on his behalf and made fortune favor him thus proof he IS a good Christian?

But if his next door neighbor is more successful but is an atheist, what does that mean?

I was raised to believe God loves everyone, but does it mean God rewards people equally?

Does God not reward people equally, but the atheist guy is so talented and got lucky enough that he overcame God's apathy (best worst case scenario) or God's actively working against him (worst worst case scenario)?

Is it all a crapshoot?

Why does God hate the Dallas Cowboy so much?

One of My More Clever Ideas (That Didn't Work)

The last Harry Potter book was coming out, and bookstores were going to go all out by staying open past midnight to sell the book, have costume contests, etc. I wanted in on that. I had a dream of being hired to not only twist balloons at the party but decorating the place with large balloon sculptures related to the books. I had designs for owls, large dragons, broomsticks, cats, and wanted to try a new weaving technique to create a 20 foot basilisk.

I happened to have some computer paper that looked like parchment, and I made up a one page flier with some photos of my work on it, chose appropriate fonts, etc. My stroke of genius was when I learned that Dumbledore means bumblebee in Old Welsh. I remember seeing some stamps at Walmart that had a bee design on it so after printing out my fliers and putting them in envelopes (but not sealing them), I bought the stamps, lit a red candle, and poured the melted wax onto the envelope. As the wax puddles were drying, I pressed the bee stamp into them, sealing the envelopes with Dumbeldore's "seal." I then delivered them held by balloon owls to the managers of various Borders, Barnes and Noble, etc.

It didn't work out. Big box bookstores' regional headquarters are notoriously cheap.

So instead of entertaining, I went and parked in line at the University of Tulsa's drive-through warehouse bookstore to get a copy of the book. I drove my van with my logos and had my balloon bag with me so I made some stuff for people who asked for them.

Got a couple of gigs out of it too.

Suck it, Borders/Barnes and Noble.