Saturday, June 28, 2008

Deer in the headlights


Oh, you know. Everyone is moaning about gas prices, it's terrible, America sucks. Call the waambulence. I've had arguments about the moral responsibility of the oil companies, and whether we should expect them to self-regulate. My answer is no. I think that to even ask that question is to misunderstand the nature of business, which I admittedly have not studied in any form, we can call it armchair economics. As far as I know, the goal of business is to bring in the greatest possible income, by spending as little as possible. There's no room for morals in that definition. The various people-turned-cogs in the corporate machines get their pats on the back for cutting costs. Which individuals should we ask to sacrifice their employee review in our favor? I know of very few people who would choose the stick over the carrot out of social decency alone, and, of course, none of them would ever be caught working a job that could offer that choice. There's no morals in a business machine just as there's no morals to be found in the mechanisms of an automobile.

The oil company is a lion, whose cage has been left unlocked by an irresponsible administration. We could blame the beast, but I think it's the zookeeper we should be after.

IfI bothered to take a business ethics class I guess I would either feel very sheepish or spend the semester rolling my eyes.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

American Authenticy and an Artist


Week4-ish, originally uploaded by aozers.

I'm really into old trucks. For me, they're a representation of American authenticity, with rust and chipped windows and midwestern character. They're directly opposed to the suburban SUV that's come to take it's place as an American staple. But my attraction to them could also be attributed to the nostalgia that young people often have for the good old days of their naive childhood, or, even more likely, the days before they were ever born, and whose only awareness thereof is gifted to them by grandparents, who, by kindness and likely some self denial, conceal from us the harsh truths.

The figure in the image was originally Marc Jacobs from his Andy/Edie shoot in Interview magazine. After several generations of my objunctifying process, he's left as a silhouette, that for the process of this composition, represents the artist. An additional element is the text, scanned out of Swann's Way, spoken by the character, Bloch. So far in my reading, he has unfortunately played an unsubstantial part, at least in terms of textual presence. It wouldn't ruin it for me in any way if I were told that he is recurring in later volumes. In fact, it would accelerate my reading more than any other motivational force. The scanned text in this image is Bloch's response to a comment about the weather.

"Sir, I am absolutely incapable of telling you whether it has rained. I live so resolutely apart from physical contingencies that my senses no longer trouble to inform me of them."

He goes on to say

"I never allow myself to be influenced in the smallest degree either by atmospheric disturbances or by the arbitrary divisions of what is known as time. I would willingly reintroduce to society the opium pipe of China or the Malayan kris, but I am wholly and entirely without instruction in those infinitely more pernicious and moreover quite bleakly bourgeois implements, the umbrella and the watch."

I'm so jealous of the portrayed ability this character has to focus. Sure, I'll happily wander the streets in this terrible summer heat, but I know it. On the up side, I am perpetually late, even if I plan not to be.