i want to do something that will essentially engage me for the quarter...
i've been thinking about the shallow aesthically driven culture that i live in.
people will kill spiders before lady bugs when they're both still bugs.
ashlee simpsons popularity pole rose after the nose job and she still cant sing.
cute japanese trinkets that have almost no purpose sell like crazy and still.... do nothing
just a thought.
inner beauty might be bullshit... but is that a bad thing... maybe... maybe not...
random
Monday, April 9, 2007
inner beauty might be little bit of bullshit
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9 comments:
haha, I don't really follow, but I like the frankness of the tone or whatever exactly it is you're trying to communicate.
I think that there needn't be a clear distinction between the idea of "inner" beauty and physical beauty, as long as we recognize the difference between cultural/social expectations, and the beauty of the human body. You know--a while ago, people thought it was sexy to paint their teeth black... and now we think it's sexy to bleach them. Personally, I'm quite allright with yellow. That's one of the things I try and address in my project.
Of-course inner beauty isn't bullshit. It's just scandalously underemphasized!
Yes, there are truckloads of frat cavemen and scary Barbie clones but I think that many people appreciate each other for what they are on the inside, and those are the people that are worth your time.
It's true that the media obsesses on unifaceted notions of beauty, but mass media isn't always an accurate, total reflection of people.
That said, it has a lot of power and most of it is so stupid it would be great to put a dent (if nothing else) in the shallow value system of the people who do buy into it all.
But no- IMO inner beauty absolutely is not bullshit, and people fall in love with people's insides every second. Physical beauty can be very pleasing and fun- but it's not all their is, and like John said, there are so many more ways to be beautiful than the limited ways the media suggests.
Hey Alexis I'd be careful of throwing around that phrase "frat cavemen" because stereotyping is exactly what keeps people from discovering other's inner beauty (I’m in a frat and though most of the stereotypes are mostly true, they aren’t always :) ). An interesting development of this idea I would think is not necessarily how inner beauty is bullshit, but rather how individual relationship is very necessary in establishing ones understanding of another’s inner beauty, hence why the media is so poor at portraying inner beauty because it involves an individual intimacy that the media has a very difficult time exposing as it is a robust tool of society that works mostly on that which must be avoided, stereotypes.
Haha. Rob, I'm sorry. I was just kidding around and part of that was making fun of the stereotypes I was evoking. Unsuccessfully. I wasn't meaning to make a blanket statement. I have some frat and sorority friends, and I love and respect them. I'm also aware, partially through them, of a general Greek row culture which is extremely influenced by unifaceted, commercial forms of beauty, and of this I am highly critical. I would never join a sorority (not that they'd want me) for this reason, and that is a judgment call I am comfortable making. My two close friends who joined a sorority, and whom are still my close friends, are currently struggling with maxed out credit cards and eating disorders- something none of us saw coming. Again, this is not a blanket statement. Of-course there are great Greek row kids. That doesn't mean that the overall environment is one that is effectively supportive of "inner beauty." Regardless, I'm sorry if I was offensive.
Oh, and needless to say, you're obviously not a caveman :) and I would never assume this about anyone. That joke comes with personal experience. Uh... hiding being a geico commercial.
Hey Amber- I'm really sorry for bombing your comments section! Didn't see it coming.
Rob- last thing- what I really should have left it at is that I was making a joke, and it was based on a stereotype, and you're right to call me out on it! Anyhow, see you in class.
Yes! Some frank exchanges. I wish I had this sort of business going on in my blog.
Well, I think that there's no need to get defensive about frat cavemen. Sure, it's a stereotype. But I don't think that frat cavement, or frat peoples in general need defending. An example: I call sports fans, and sports players "knuckleheads." Sure, not all sports enthusiasts are knuckleheads, but I think my characterization is generally right. And I have friends who are into sports, and they don't deny me the pleasure of calling sports enthusiasts knuckleheads. I really think they are, too. Try working in a restaurant that is anywhere near a stadium, and see what happens when the game gets out. You get knuckleheads.
Another example from my serving experience. I have an Asian background--I'm half Taiwanese (that means I'm half Chinese, if you want to be picky). Anyway, I hate serving my own kind. It's just an unfortunate truth that my own kind does not tip well. I always try to pass the Asians off to the other servers.
I think there are some people who have been wrongly stereotyped, and have had struggles and difficulties, and those stereotype actually work to their disadvantage in a quantifiable way. I'm careful about those things. But as for all stereotypes.... hey, what the hell is wrong with having a little fun? Or hating Knuckleheads and Asians? I don't hate asians. I just don't expect good tips.
Oh, and Rob, if you actually get around to reading this, here is the journal entry that I got that text in my presentation from in class.
Here you go:
Dreams
Two nights ago I dreamed about learning to play basketball. I was on a team with a bunch of little girls and I sucked. I can’t remember who the coach was, but I considering my situation he or she was understanding. In one of our games, I started to relax a little and my playing improved. By the end of the game I was wrecking those little bitches on the other team! I remember wearing a jacket for much of the game and it got in my way whenever I handled the ball. At one point I took the jacket off, and then I could play like a champion. With the jacket on, I had to constantly roll down my sleeves and they would just come back down with any movement.
Thoughts
Last week I had many new thoughts. I spent some days at the compound and developed some feelings for Barbie.
Today I am lamenting for the time of last year. Exactly one year again I was working on Magnolias. I was working on the review for Peijman’s show at Ground Zero. I was living off of money that I made painting the Magnolia house. Do I need to work for myself? Is this the key to my difficulties? I was very unhappy during the painting, but the month of freedom afterwards was well worth it. I still talk about it now, one year later! So much happened last year. Ashton graduated from college and my short friendship with Josh began. I remember when we stood on the bow of the ferry, the wind in our hair, knowing that we were setting off on a journey that would stretch out for months. Even though we only left for one month, the feeling was glorious. I went to Los Angeles. I was so happy running around with Nicky at Disneyland. I walked around the giant hotel and worked on some writing. I didn’t worry about anything. I had no job, no money and my father paid for all of my food. What fine times! Fuck all this nostalgia. Sometimes I want to destroy my perfect memory.
The sun is out today, but I feel nothing. The food tastes bitter and sometimes bland. It is a bad day. I am ashamed of my mood swings. I am ashamed of my constant consideration of my mood swings. I am filled with shame.
Minutiae
I taught English to some rich kids last night outside of the school. I wonder how much Mary-Anne charges them? She is a hustling fool. Beasts wander around the apartment at night. They could be mice or giant roaches. I tried to see them but they scurried when I opened the kitchen door. I will stomp out any beast that invades my land. The compound does not accept visitors lately. It is a sick house. I will be paid in 2 weeks and buy a bicycle perhaps. Today is a horrible day.
Discharge
An extremely interesting shit this morning. While performing, it came to me that I had not shit for 2 days. This explained the unusual volume of the load, and also its mealy texture and solid constitution. As it slid out of me, I worried that the residuals might be troublesome to clean up, but there were none! A most curious shit it certainly was. I’ve not had one like this for years perhaps, and what struck me was the possibility that somebody else, maybe even Chris, might take a shit like that nearly every day. It is certain that the exact composition and nature of my shit is as manifold as my personality or the presentation of myself, but it is also certain that my shit cannot exist reflexively. So, I wonder, could it be that my shit is a record of me that is completely unaffected? I think to become more involved in my shit might be equivalent to becoming more involved with my disarticulated self.
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