Murderous Children and a Rant about Non-Subversive, Sexist Comedy

Just saw ¿Quíen puede matar a un niño? (1976) or, Who Can Kill a Child?, in English. It's insane, I recommend you watch it to see Spanish children kill adults.



Also had a conversation I've been wanting to have for quite a long time in film class. B (I feel weird using full names in my blog now... for some reason) brought up how someone in his painting class brought in this really exploitative, gratuitous painting of a naked woman bending over, along with a random tit in the corner. He, the painter, apparently wanted to present the naked female figure as "decoration". B was pretty adamant about how he (and, thankfully the rest of the class AND the teacher) disagreed with this student's depiction of women in the painting. Thank gawd -- this gave me hope.

This reminded me of the time someone brought in a drawing for critique in the "comedy" Research Studio last semester. The drawing was as follows: a line drawing of a naked, faceless woman, holding her legs up in the air, with a coin slot for a vagina. Chee-ya. So I expressed my discontent during the critique, and the teacher asks if I think the guy who drew it thinks a woman's vagina is literally a coin slot. My response should have been:

-"Gee, I don't know, has he ever even seen one?"

or,

-What the girl in my film class (the one, who I believe wrote for Second City, or was affiliated with them in one way or another) said. She mentioned how what we laugh at reveals what we truly think in our subconcious...

...Thus, if someone laughs at a drawing of a faceless, naked woman with a coin slot for a vagina, there's a kernel of truth, and sadly enough, odds are, that person subconsciously feels that women can be bought. The "it's funny because it's true" doesn't work in this case because it's not true -- they're stereotypes, and they're certainly not anything new and subversive WHICH IS WHAT COMEDY WAS AND IS MEANT TO BE.

The whole thing kind of distanced me from some people in the Research class, and I definitely felt silenced and a little isolated for the rest of the term, simply for saying I was offended by a line drawing. So it was quite the relief to hear like-mindedness on the situation, instead of the half-witted, apathetic, hipster response on how we shouldn't take sexist jokes and such so seriously because it's supposed to be "ironic". I got a whole 'nother rant on that, but I'll withdraw that and save it for a rainy day.

I also wrote a Feministing article about the line drawing incident, but someone from my class left a comment on it defending the guy who drew it. Weak defense, of course -- s/he said it wasn't a final project and it was supposed to be "lame, bad, ugly" art and we're supposed to laugh at the piece because of that. However, laughing at someone like this, something that degrades half the population using old clichés and stereotypes because you think it's bad is the same as laughing at it because you think it's true.
Rant: done.

Though I feel like I have much more to say...

Zack Galifianakis Interviews Moby

"Have you ever seen art?"

Frustration

Ay ay ay I don't know what to do with my Pun Intended project, the $6,000,000 thing. I don't know what the hell I'd do if given $6,000,000 to do... All I can think of at the moment is making a video piece where I melt a butterscotch flavored lollipop in the microwave and hope it turns into butterscotch. (I've tried this once before in my childhood. All it left me with was a hot lollipop, as you might imagine.)

I made the bold move in class today to have my proposal discussed in front of everyone. One person told me that my idea seemed like a business invesment instead of an art piece. But who the fuck would seriously want to create a restaurant where customers are punished for talking? (Especially in economically tough times like these?) Well, I would, but not unless there was some sort of artful purpose, which I've yet to explain in more vivid detail. I guess it stems from wondering what drives people to go out to eat other than food or a type of food.

We have studio time next week and I have no idea what sort of maquette or whatever I'm supposed to make.

Back to the drawing board. Fuck, this totally goes against the "Cult of Done" Dunda was so fervently explaining in class.

Right now I'm pretty much depending on seeing some homeless man on stilts riding a unicycle on the train track and then coming up with an inane string of thoughts that will lead me to an epiphany.

Rant: done.

UPDATE: I don't mean to offend anyone in this post. I was just in a terrible rut and I deeeeeeply apologize for having pissed anyone off. I'm willing to pay the 7 bucks for an Eiffel Tower at Margie's as a peace offering.

The Legs for Art

My legs are not made for the art world.

They are not ideal for the vast industry I hope to dive into for several reasons:

1) I will never pull off the gaunt, heroin-addict look that many artists strive for and achieve. I suppose I could attempt the whole eating disorder shtick, but that only works for as long as I'm not hungry.

2) Without looking heroin chic, I will not be able to wear a pair of leggings with a baggy Oxford shirt without a group of pretzel-stick hipster girls giggling at my "bulbous" calves.

3) With shapely legs like mine, I will never be able to meet Robert Crumb (is he still alive?) without being mentally or sexually harassed in some way. Seriously, there are days when I look down at my legs and think about how many feet away from me he'll have to stay as ordered by my (future) restraining order.


But lucky for me, hipsters usually drop out of art school by their second year and Robert Crumb is old and not necessarily looking to go into film and video (except for his one documentary.)