Serendipity

NEW PROJECT

2010-01-10T16:50:00.003-05:00

Recently, a few folks have commented that they miss my regular updates here on Serendipity. I've obviously been woefully inactive in my posts on this forum. Now I feel like I'm ready to make an effort again, but I feel like changing the format a bit. So I've decided to initiate a new blog, and to wear my identity on my sleeve. It will still be free-form.There will likely be less personal revelation, but a whole lot of my photographic work included.

Please check out* Crown of Appalachia.

*insert drum roll here.

Pittsburgh Art Events: 12/ 11-12/09.

2009-12-10T07:03:00.004-05:00

Friday

Space Gallery (812 Liberty Avenue, downtown) has a group show of creators who have somehow affiliated themselves with the monolithic complex of institutional arts organizations throughout the area. "Behind Our Scenes" includes 34 artists who work in a variety of mediums, and is curated by Laura Mustio & Nicole Rosato. The opening runs from 6-10PM.

You can see a variety of student productions at the Melwood Screening Room in North Oakland (477 Melwood Avenue) this evening by attending an event unveiling thesis screenings. Not only will you have no idea what you might see, but you can also avail yourself of a free reception to follow (7PM).

Saturday

Artists Image Resource (518 Foreland Street on the North Side) is opening its doors for a preview of "Pittsburgh 250 Portfolio, 2009 Projects Portfolio", from 7 until 9:30PM. Along with the output of its 2009 Resident Artists, there will be work from Pittsburgh 250 Portfolio artists (Delanie jenkins, John Ritter, Glenn Kaino, Nick Bubash, Hiroki Otsuka and Shepard Fairey) . If you don't know about the services that AIR offers, or what the organization has done for the past 13 years, this is a good chance to find out.

Pittsburgh Art Events: 12/ 4-5/09.

2009-12-03T09:11:00.008-05:00

Friday

The calendar informs us that it is once again time for Unblurred, on Penn Avenue. Instead of giving you a full rundown here, I'll merely divert you to the official website of the Penn Ave. Arts initiative, which has ALL the details. I do, however, insist that you make it a point to stop at Most Wanted Fine Art to see the work of fellow Unicorn Mountain denizen Tibi Chelcea.

If you have a taste for a bit of music, I recommend you check out Slim Cessna at Club Cafe (in the SouthSide) at 10:20PM. While his legendary Auto Club is a burst of mad energy and revelation, his local band is shaping up as a formidable act to be reckoned with. Sure, there's gospel and country roots included... but don't fool yourself- these guys rock. Believe me, you need a dose of this to get yourself in the mood for the holiday season.

Saturday

Sometimes it's kind of pleasant to have something to do midday, before its time to head out for your particular brand of nightlife. So why not grab a cup of coffee, and peruse some art by Hannah Reiff at the Morning Glory Coffeehouse (1806 Chislett Street) in Morningside from 5-8PM? She's advertising "wintry prints / drawings / collages". While you are at it, check out the neighborhood's new Sprout Fund mural nearby.

Over on the South Side, the Michael Berger Gallery (30 S. 6th St.) has an opening for your enjoyment earlier in the day (12-5PM). It's entitled Sundown of the Last Dynasty Hung Liu: Tapestries & New Prints. That's an explicit enough title to give the prospective viewer at least an inkling of what one might see.

Pittsburgh Art Events: 11/ 13-14/09.

2009-11-12T09:48:00.010-05:00

There are plenty of art-related odds-and-ends around town this weekend. They are dispersed throughout the city, so you'll have to put a bit of thought into what you might be desirous of seeing.

Friday

I've never attended a faculty art show at CCAC, but I am aware that some of the most passionate educators can be found at our nations' community colleges. You can see the annual show over at 808 Ridge Road on the Northside campus between 5-7PM.

Last week, it was puzzling to discover that the new Fast>>forward Gallery (3700 Penn Ave) had apparently decided to distance itself a bit from the monthly Unblurred event. I noticed its conspicuous absence on the promotional literature. But I've recently discovered that the reason it wasn't open was because co-founder Craig Freeman had a solo down at Zombo Gallery. That explains this week's opening reception for Breath Deep: An Ecological Exhibition by Ross Hardy (6-10PM).

And while we are on the subject, there's another 2-day exhibition at the Zombo Gallery. This one is entitled Mod as a Hatter (that's cute... right?) and features work by someone named CZM. I've also caught wind of the news that Zombo and Co. will soon have regular hours, when they open up their doors (4900 Hatfield Street) for a fashion boutique. Sometimes I wonder where Michael and Julie find the energy and time to be involved with their various projects.

You can also catch the unveiling of Matt Marino's current preoccupations at the Crazy Mocha in Bloomfield (4525 Liberty Ave), and stop by the grand opening of Gallery Sim (1735 East Carson St.) in the South Side. Kathleen Zimbicki has curated the show at this location. It's been awhile since there has been a viable cultural presence on that side of town, but who knows? A few venues have been active down there lately. Might there be a third "First Friday" art walk soon?

Saturday

The ToonSeum opens its doors for the first time at 10AM. It is one of only three museums in the nation dedicated to the art of cartooning. From what I hear, it will focus heavily on the type of strips that have been delighting American newspaper readers for over a century. I've also been told that Bill from Copacetic Comics Co. has been asked to run the gift shop, AND that he'll be offering some pretty sweet specials for the occasion of the Grand Opening. The ToonSeum is located at 945 Liberty Avenue, downtown.

Luke & Eloy Gallery (5169 Butler St.) has a daytime reception (11AM-5PM) for Paper or Plastic, a group show featuring stuff by creators from across the country, and you can follow that up with a visit to the Christine Frechard Gallery (5871 Forbes Ave) in Squirrel Hill. Hisham and Kamal Youssef are the featured artists there, and the opening lasts from 5-8PM. If it's anything like their inaugural event, you should get there early if you want some of the divine refreshments they put out.

If you'd prefer to get out of town (but not that far), you can venture out to DV8 Espresso Bar & Gallery in Greensburg (208 South Pennsylvania Avenue) for a solo show of Gabe Felice's intricate and fantastical paintings. Felice regularly produces an output of wondrous images on wood that suggest medieval engravings and illuminated manuscripts. If you went to see the Visionary Arts Festival this past August at Schenley Plaza, you would have had a hard time missing Gabe, toiling in front of his tent, and working up a back stock of affordable inventory.

Pittsburgh Art Events: 11/ 6-7/09.

2009-11-05T09:11:00.006-05:00

Friday

For some reason, I've been particularly anticipating this month's Unblurred. The last couple of weekends have been dead on the local arts scene, and I'm looking forward to what the various venues will be putting out.

I'm most excited to find out that artist, curator, educator, and former gallery-owner Bob Ziller is opening up a book store! It's located at the old Red Star Ironworks garage at 4810 Penn Ave. Ziller says that he is starting with an inventory of 3400 books, and that everything will be priced at 50% listed price. He's also doing another installment of his Pittsburgh Beautification Project, so stop in and find out what that is all about.

Meanwhile, "Pigeon Pair" is at Modern Formations (4919 Penn Avenue), serving up the work of Christian Breitkreutz & Jason Rosemeyer. I've been keeping an eye on C.B., and I'm eager to track his development.

The building housing the misleadingly-named International Children's Art Gallery (5020) is opening all three of its floors. The second will feature recent stuff by James Maszle, and Richard Rappaport will be up-top.

There will also be music by Brass Chariot, Duane Jones Duo and Al Zavacky at the new Irma Freeman Center for Imagination (5006 Penn), a group show at Garfield Artworks (with Maggie Black from WV), Cory Bonnet & Ryan Dunmeyer at Most Wanted Fine Art (5015 Penn Ave), and creations on glass by Joseph Holtz at Imagebox.

Shadyside offers its monthly dose of openings as well. Gallerie Chiz (5831 Ellsworth Avenue) has a group show called "A Convivial Collection...New Creations" that includes work by Philippe Paulin Derville, Ben Oddi, Joyce Werwie Perry, Carlos Sanchez-Vegas & Randie Snow. It runs from 6-9PM. Patrick Ruane is over at Gallery in the Square (5850 Ellsworth Avenue), and the Mendelson Gallery has Bob and Paul Bowden (6-9PM).

Saturday

Zombo Gallery (4900 Hatfield St.) returns with another one of its idiosyncratic weekend shows. You get the opening on Friday, and if you miss that... the closing on Saturday (6-10 PM, both nights). This time around, it's "Lickity-Split!" with Craig Freeman , supplemented by sculptures by Seth LeDonne. Don't miss the madness of this space.

If you never made your way over to Moxie Dada at the Firehouse in the North Side (1416 Arch Street), this absolutely and without reservation will be your very last chance. The closing for "Dia De Los Muertos Y La Resurreccion: The Existencial Crisis" runs from 6-9PM. If you have been a regular habitue of the space, then I'm sure you'll recognize a lot of the creators represented. While it's sad to see such a stalwart of the local scene pass on, it will be exciting to see what the people behind Moxie Dada do next. Its proprietors have ensured me that they are not giving up, but just moving on to other projects.

Oh, and by the way... the Three Rivers Film Festival opens this weekend, and you can find a list of the events here.

Quote of the day

2009-11-02T09:15:00.002-05:00

From the Associated Baptist Press website:

"And, frighteningly, Christians seem at the very least to be as susceptible as the population at large to the habit of spreading false stories."

Read the full story HERE.

Pittsburgh Art Events: 10/ 16-17/09.

2009-10-15T09:17:00.005-04:00

Friday

"3-Way", the new exhibit at Fe Gallery (4102 Butler St, Lawrenceville), runs from 6-9 PM, and features the work of Anna Mikolay (Director of Education at the Mattress Factory), Josh Tonies, and Laura Tabakman. This non-profit venue typically shows art without regard to commercial imperatives, so there's a good chance you will see some stuff to make you go "hmmmm?!"

Have you had the opportunity to check out Maxo Vanka's murals at St. Nicholas Church in Millvale (24 Maryland Ave.)? If you haven't, this is the perfect chance- they are having a "50%-off flea market" this weekend. On Friday, it runs from 5-8PM and on Saturday, it's 8AM-2PM. Along with a dinner and a lunch, they are also welcoming people to tour the church itself.

Saturday

Spend the day (10AM-6PM) in Lawrenceville checking out artist studios. Despite the rapidly increasing price of real estate in this neighborhood, artists haven't (yet) been completely priced out. Although many of the participants are more of the "crafter" sort, you should take this opportunity to invade some strangers' spaces. Unlike the typical "house tour", this event is free. Make sure to stop by Encyclopedia Destructica (156 41st Street) to see where their magic is realized.

Apparently Shepherd Fairey is in town again, for his opening reception for "Supply and Demand" at the Andy Warhol Museum. The museum is encouraging all to come and meet the artist. I used to have a modicum of respect for Fairey... until I realized what a raging hypocrite he is. The guy has been freely appropriating the imagery of other creators for years, and in fact has built his career on the practice. So it galls me that he has sued others for so-called copyright infringement. Anyway you can meet him after 6PM, and meet his lawyers if you decide to appropriate his very own methods.

Pittsburgh Weekend Events: 10/2-3/09.

2009-10-01T07:24:00.012-04:00

Friday

Is this the night of the seasonal Downtown gallery crawl in the Cultural District? It sure is, and naturally it falls right smack dab on the same night as Unblurred. What a surprise! The shower of events in the midst of the Golden Triangle gets under way at 5:30PM.

937 Liberty has a a group show of work focusing on a single object (I hear tell this will contain multiple perspectives on "rope"). The folks behind it belong to The Pittsburgh chapter of the American Society Of Media Photographers, which means that they get paid to make their images. That's cool. That must mean they are legitimate. Don't hold that against them.

SPACE (812 Liberty Avenue) is unveiling some "high-concept" project called Transfer Lounge, described as "a unique opportunity for artists from different parts of the world (from what I can gather- Valencia, Spain and Pittsburgh) to actively exchange their views and ideas around issues of mobility and transition." Unfortunately this tells me virtually nothing about what you might see if you make a visit.

Don't forget Soulpurpose at the 707/709 Galleries (Penn Avenue). The G20 might be over, but you can still see at least one curator's ideas about a balanced representation of local artists. Apparently Jen Cooney's "The Secret Lives of Stories" is still at 707, and this would be the single compelling reason for me to venture Downtown on a Friday evening. I saw her work a couple of years ago when the PCA and Filmmakers jointly hosted their Biennial, and it was easy to get caught up in her visual world. She seems to love Bigfoot, and for this reason alone, I must someday meet her.

Finally, I want to mention that a French Artist is showing installation art "highlighting simultaneously both the simplicity and the complexity of reality" (emphasis mine, quote theirs) at the Wood Street galleries. And that wraps up one crawl!

If you're going to Unblurred instead, consider dropping in on the Friendship Development Associates' birthday bash at 6PM. Be aware that this does cost money ($7 in advance, or $10 at the door). With all the free stuff going on this night, I'm sure the lines for beer won't be excessively long.

Despite what some other media sources are saying, Rick Byerly is reporting that the Rob Larson/Mike Egan collaboration is opening at Modern Formations (4919 Penn Avenue)
on Friday night. These guys have both appeared in the gallery before, so I know they are worth a stop. Egan does simple day-of-the-dead inspired paintings, and Larson appears to employ stencils and photographic prints extensively. It'll surely be an interesting mix.

Other Unblurred highlights include images from Susan Constance at Most Wanted Fine Art (5015 Penn Ave), glass work by Sheila Klein at the Pittsburgh Glass Center (5472 Penn Ave), a 3D exhibit of Joseph Materkowski's abstract paintings at FAST>>FWRD (3700 Penn Ave), an Autumn "ensemble" at SPACE (4823 Penn Avenue), and a collection of stuff over at Garfield Artworks that includes (among others) multimedia creators Becky Corrigan and Evan Knauer. Whew.

Of course Shadyside has their version of First Friday too, so you can go and check out a reception for Cliff Enright's watercolors over at Mendelson Gallery (5874 Ellsworth Avenue). They are rather bright abstracts that contain a broad enough palette to match any decor. Meanwhile Cory Rockwood has some more of his "Painted Shaped Canvassesd" over at Gallerie Chiz (5831 Ellsworth Avenue). I've seen some of his works over at Moxie Dada, and I enjoy their subtlety. Rockwood shares the space with Ryder Henry, whose futuristic cityscape paintings impressed me very much during this past August's Visionary Arts Fest in Schenley Plaza.

As if the concordance of art events during first Fridays in Pittsurgh isn't already overwhelming, the Kelly Strayhorn Theater (in the heart of East Liberty) is having a roll-out/call for artists for "Go East!", that is evidently seeking to compete with the other two regular monthly extravaganzas. They promise " A combination of live music, dance, theatre, film, spoken word, and more...crafts marketplace, music, free food and drink." Make sure to bring samples of your work on CD/DVD if you are interested in participating in such future events.

And if you happen to be in the Homestead area, you'll be close by the Pump House & Water tower, where four artists (including former Digging Pitt regular and current blog contributor Jean McClung) will display their work inspired by the Carrie Blast Furnaces (see Bittersweet Harvest for some previews).

Saturday

Another exhibition space is opening this weekend in Squirrel Hill, to join the ranks of Sirani Gallery on Forbes. The Christine Frechard Gallery (5871 Forbes Avenue) will feature emerging, as well as international artists, and their grand inaugural celebration kicks off between 5-9PM with a group show of locals, including the very talented Aimee Manion (another veteran of VAF). If I had my way I'd already own one of her paintings, but I fear she's quickly leaving my price range.

Pitsburgh Society of Artists is having their annual show at Borelli Edwards in Lawrenceville (3583 Butler Street). The opening reception is from 6-8:30PM. I was too busy to submit anything, but that doesn't mean I won't stop by.

Pittsburgh Art Events: 9/18-19/09.

2009-09-17T09:42:00.009-04:00

Friday

Zombo gallery (4900 Hatfield St.) upholds its status as the most active art space in the city with its reception for Catfish & Such (7-11PM). TJ Reddick likes animals and bright colors. See what I mean?

It's not too late to buy a $50 ticket to the Unicorn Mountain Fundraiser @ Remedy. The event is called The Esoteric Order of the Illustrious Owl Bear, and includes live entertainment, a Bavarian dinner served family-style, an art auction, the new issue of UM (called Black Forest, to be released later this month), and a T-shirt advertising Pittsburgh's hippest art collective. For $35 you can attend the dinner without the material goodies, and for a mere $5 you can participate in the dance party. For details, check out the link.

Future Tenant (819 Penn Avenue, downtown) features a show curated by Jeff Schreckengost and Lisa Toboz called 'Dividing the Goose". The title apparently refers to the themes of folklore and fairy tales that underpin this multimedia exhibition.

Saturday

Cleveland-based Arabella Proffer is unleashing "Splendor and Safety Pins", which highlights her "faux portrait paintings" at Boxheart (4523 Liberty Avenue, Bloomfield) from 6-9PM. She creates mythical European countries and populates them with the characters she envisions. Her work is flat, cartoon-like, and vibrantly colored... and thus perfectly appealing to my aesthetic sensibilities. I believe I'll make a point of attending this one.

When was the last time you made it over to Braddock? See what Fetterman and Co. have been up to by attending the Obscurae Art Lottery over at UnSmoke Systems (1137 Braddock Avenue). For $45 ($55 at the door) you can buy a ticket to purchase a fine art photograph documenting the community. Depending upon when that ticket is drawn, you may get to select your favorite piece, from first to last. It is free to attend this event, but they are trying to raise money to revitalize their neighborhood, so donations are accepted. Eat some fresh bread cooked nearby while you are at it.

Imagebox (4933 Penn Avenue) is opening their doors for "The Red Tag Studio Sale" to benefit the Persad Center. It's rare to see the gallery welcome guests on a day other than First Friday, so it's probably worth a stop (6PM) to see the work of local and national artists.

Who is the tool?

2009-09-14T14:34:00.000-04:00

My (relatively) new domestic arrangement has exposed me to habits and patterns that sometimes confound me. For instance, my roommates have the capacity to be entertained by television shows that I’ve never considered viable sources of amusement. I’ve seen things that have shocked me with the most banal and ridiculous examples of human behavior. I had no idea that both cable and network programming had reached its current depths. Neither would I have expected intelligent viewers to settle for the poor quality product put in front of them.

Still, I’ve been told repeatedly throughout my life that folks value escapism, and apparently the more mind-numbing it is, the better it satisfies the singular need of the audience. Certainly the choices made in my household illustrate that point. The MTV music awards prove to be a meaningless and contrived spectacle, meant to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Reality shows offer insipid dialog, loathsome personalities, and situations that would strain credibility if penned by a scriptwriter for (even) the dullest of dramas. And consumers are meant to laugh at the most cliché jokes of today’s so-called sitcoms.

If I’m in the room when the idiot box is on, it’s sometimes impossible to ignore. As a result, I’ve learned that L.A. is still filled with self-absorbed, sub-human, empty shells that cynical producers put forth as fascinating subjects of study. I find it all insulting to the social condition. But obviously there are plenty that disagree. So I make my best attempt to find something redeeming about whatever’s on. Otherwise my hatred for my fellow man will know no bounds. Most of the time I’m thwarted in my efforts.

Yesterday I discovered “Tool Academy”. The set-up for this show is a supposed nationwide search for the ultimate “bad boy’. Unsuspecting dolts audition for a competition that will identify the “Alpha Males” of America. But within the first (or so) episode they realize that a trick has been played on them. Their girlfriends have submitted them for consideration as the worst mates in the nation. And all the video footage that they willingly had shot of themselves mouthing off and bragging becomes evidentiary material. They get to sit beside their disconsolate honeys as the very worst parts of their personas are displayed for a live crowd and America at large.

To add insult to injury, the creators of “Tool Academy” have enlisted the aid of an imperious relationship counselor with a distinguished British accent apparently meant to mask the vast level of stupidity the proceedings represent. And so it goes- a parade of self-delusion, an awesome lack of common sense, and a cavalcade of absolute nonsense. Is it representative of the quality of intimate pairings of the populace? If it is, then evolution has truly reversed itself, and our species must soon inevitably cede to another classification of animal. Our citizens are literally retarded, emotionally and otherwise.

Could it be that this show actually serves some sort of useful purpose other than the empty calories derived from the titillation of digesting extreme obnoxiousness? Is it a useful guide in what to avoid in dealing with your significant other? Perhaps some unfortunate viewers will see reflections of their own lives in the hapless guys and gals onscreen. I suppose if even a single woman decides to dump her misbehaving man after noting his resemblance to one of these buffoon contestants, then some redemption for its existence might be proven. Yet it’s easy to counter that anyone who has chosen to invite the presence of such a creature into her life deserves the burden of its continued presence.

Pittsburgh Events: 9/11-12/09.

2009-09-10T09:31:00.010-04:00

Hey folks... I'm back with a weekly round-up of doings in and around town. I do want to point out right up front that this is NOT meant to be a comprehensive outline of everything available. So if I don't mention an event you have some sort of personal investment in... tough luck. Maybe I haven't heard of it. Or maybe it didn't catch my fancy. Or maybe I just didn't care enough to highlight it. Go find another shoulder to cry on. Or do a Facebook blast. Or hell... just leave a comment at the bottom of this post.

Friday

This week brings us the grand opening party (5:30-9PM) for Pittsburgh Tribune Review art critic Kurt Shaw's self-titled galleries (805 Liberty Avenue, Downtown). Highlights include original lithographs, woodblock and 'Pochoir Prints' (whatever the hell those are) by such luminaries as Dali, Picasso, Chagall, Ernst, Miro and Braque. Feel free to go down there and see what those pikers accomplished.

The second issue of TAV (an online publication featuring a collective of artists, filmmakers, musicians and writers associated with Encyclopedia Destructica) is being unleashed this weekend. Folks on display at the publication's studio (156 41st Street in Lawrenceville) include founder Chris Kardambikas and CMU-graduate Peter Burr. The festivities kick off at 7PM.

Also in the neighborhood- Coca Cafe (3811 Butler Street) presents a photography exhibit called Green Eye on Western PA to benefit Group Against Smog & Pollution. I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing there will be some urban landscapes in this show. If you care about that sort of thing, this will likely be worth a visit. And painter Sam Thorp is down at the Zombo Gallery (4900 Hatfield Street). Pop in and say hi to her from 6-10PM.

The 707/709 Galleries (on Penn, Downtown) are having their tribute to the G20 with 15 local artists meant to display "the region's artistic diversity in various media." Expect to see a plethora of arbitrary groupings leading up to this conference. Obviously everyone is wanting a piece of the action.

It's been awhile since I've heard about an opening at Morning Glory Coffeehouse (1806 Chislett Street) in Morningside. Amy Scafuri (owner of 3G Gallery) will host a reception for her collages, sketches and original poetry, beginning at 6PM. She's promising free food and drink. That should bring 'em in.

Toby Keith is coming to the Post Gazette Pavilion. This is a fortuitous event because it will ensure that all the yahoos are out of town for the evening. Enjoy the extra space!

Saturday

Want something to take the children to? I'm considering schlepping mine out to Carnegie for its Arts and Heritage Festival. It actually starts on Thursday, but I can't make it until the last day. Why would I go all the way out there for what is sure to be an amalgamation of greasy food and pedestrian arts and crafts? Well... Carnegie kind of fascinates me in the efforts it makes to be a destination town. Plus I hear that there are some fine restaurants out that way. Besides, how many times a week can you take your kid to the local playground?

If you want to look at art this Saturday, you can stop by Construction Junction (214 N Lexington St. in Point Breeze) for the Pillow Project's Second Saturday. This event has a lot to offer- Time Capture themed photography, dance & experimental music. I can't claim to have ever participated in this series, but with the relatively limited options, this just might be my first visit. It costs a fin.

For just $25 you can can take your dog to Sandcastle to swim and eat "chicken-flavored" snow cones. Not being a particular fan of the canine, this sounds sorta disgusting to me. I wonder how the region's clans of Celtic descent feel about their ethnic festival being interrupted by packs of hairy interlopers and their masters.... I guess I'll never go to that water park again.

Pittsburgh Weekend Art Events: 9/4-5/2009.

2009-09-03T10:06:00.009-04:00

It's been awhile, so I thought I'd pop in with a hasty roundup of the many offerings the local art scene is rolling out this weekend. Forget about going out of town... you'll miss way too much if you do.

Friday

Unblurred is back again. Most Wanted Fine Art is celebrating with "Jon Howe vs Jason Sauer: MWFA 2-Year Anniversary". It runs from 6-10PM and offers discriminating viewers the chance to see bands like Grand Snafu, Fulmarine Petrels, and Das Black Milk.

How do two artists get married? Apparently they build an installation piece. See artist interpretations of the union of Dave Bernabo and Lindsey Clark at Modern Formations @ 7PM. Also, stop by 5020 Penn Avenue for Harvest, a group show of illustrative painters who seemingly share an interest in the type of images found in Juxtapoz Magazine. There are some great images of the work (along with lots of other great stuff) over at Bitersweet Harvest.

And there's a new gallery at 3700 Butler Street in Lawrenceville. It's apparently called Fast<Lots of Pulp: Works on Paper Group Exhibition". The opening reception for this show is from 6-10PM. I'm having difficulty finding any information online, so you'll just have to stop by and see for yourself until we find out more details about who's behind this project.

*** I forgot to mention (thanks MW!) that my buddy Bob Ziller will be having his first jam session for the new Sprout-funded Pittsburgh Beautification Project. It's basically a painting party whereby participants will be able to color/paint templates, producing works that will be hanging all over abandoned buildings throughout the city. Bob will be down at the old Red Star building (4810 Penn Avenue) from 7-midnight. Check out more info here...

Also, check out Lucas Stock and Alison Pochapin at the "Philosophy Kings Art Show" (5131 Penn) from 7-10PM.

Meanwhile Shadyside offers its own version of First Friday. Gallerie Chiz is still kicking, and hosting "The Pleasure of Their Company (Tom Nozum) & mirrors, miniatures, mugs & more (Ida Michaeli)". That runs from 6-9PM. And Steve Mendelson opens his annual Salon des Refuses. Based on a historical collection of rejects from a prestigious European art show from the beginning of last century, this is the gallery's (5874 Ellsworth Avenue) effort at honoring the stuff that doesn't make it into the big AAP show. Judge for yourself whether the curatorial decisions this year were merited or simply misguided .

Saturday

Experience Crafts N'at over at the Union Project, starting at 10 AM. There will be over 50 different artisans displaying and selling their wares in this fundraiser for Parkinson's Disease. This is an excellent opportunity to participate in the homegrown economy during these tough economic times. The only sweatshop victims are the crafters themselves!

Have a taste for a bit of the bubbly during the afternoon? Check out the "Art: East Meets West Champagne Reception" at the Michael Berger Gallery (their new location is 30 South Sixth Street, over on the South Side) at noon. The show features an international lineup of names you can't pronounce. How culturally sophisticated of you to show up...

And finally... stop by (6-10PM) the Panza Gallery in Millvale for Form of Fission, a collaboration between Pittsburgh Society of Sculptures, the Pittsburgh Society of Illustrators and Pittsburgh Poets.

Hanging at the Pittsburgh Visionary Arts Festival

2009-08-07T16:26:00.006-04:00

In lieu of writing my weekly art events post (which I apologize for skipping last week), I figured I'd do my first live blog post. This is the premiere of the Pittsburgh Visionary Arts Fest (hereby to be referred to as VAF). The event was organized by young, talented artist Alberto Almarza, and showcases a more non-traditional, "outsider" brand of artists doing edgier work than you would find at a typical summer arts festival.

There are about fifty tents down here at Schenley Plaza, and the scope and quality represented is remarkable. It doesn't hurt that the location is smack dab in the center of Oakland- a hub of activity with multiple hospitals and universities. Folks seem to be pleasantly surprised to encounter this type of aesthetic madness during their lunch hours.

Site coordinator Sarah Bauer (Almarza's better half) seems to be relishing the day. In between running around with waiver forms, she had a chance to sit down for a few seconds at our Unicorn Mountain tent. Says Bauer, "It's cool to showcase the diversity of the progressive arts scene of Pittsburgh. People have been so receptive... they're not like, 'who are these freaky wierdos'."

Maybe it helps that the audience is unfamiliar with the odd brand of individual who would agree to sit in a ten-by-ten foot enclosed space for 27 hours over a three-day weekend. The VAF runs all weekend from noon until 9PM each day. I'll be sitting here during much of that time hawking my own photos, as well as work by other artists in our collective, books and t-shirts. Perhaps I'll even get a chance to say hi to the other creators... if I ever get the chance to leave this tent.

Pittsburgh Weekend Art Events: 7/24-25/09.

2009-07-24T00:04:00.008-04:00

We're really smack-dab in the middle of Summer now. Embrace the opportunity to get out and about while the gettin's good. Here are a few ideas for your weekend plans...

Friday:

Take a trip to Fun Land: The Art of Pinball! The Warhol Museum is hosting a reception (7-10PM, free admission) for the launch of two pinball machines designed and created by local artists Mike Budai and Brian Holderman. The shindig is sponsored by art-collective Unicorn Mountain and the Professional Amateur Pinball Association (PAPA). I've seen these functional art pieces in promo shots, and I'm confident that they'll be absolutely stunning in person. You may have to wait in line a long time to play them, but there will also be twelve more vintage games to stick your quarters in. See what the kids of today are missing.

Guest curator Katherine Talcott has put together the 13th Gestures Show over at the Mattress Factory (1414 Monterey St., 7:30-9:30, $10). Included within is John Riegert's Sublet, a "gallery-within-a-gallery". These exhibitions are always worth seeing, if only to have a look at the individual aesthetic of a single art-world personality. I've seen some I've liked better than others, but they are invariably interesting (and very crowded... so get there early if you want to take some time with the work).

And if you have the time to stroll by Future Tenant starting on Friday, you can see a window installation called Planet Dragulon! by Scott Andrew and Michael McParlane. If you want to know what it's all about, there will be an artist Q & A from 9-10PM.

Saturday

All you really need to know is that Slim Cessna's Auto Club is playing at the 31st St Pub. Although Cessna himself has called the 'Burgh his home for more than five years, the rest of the band lives in Denver, and so their appearances in town are limited to 1-2 events annually. If you haven't yet had the honor to attend a performance of this Tent Revivalist stream of energy, spirit, and sound- by all means show up around 10PM and prepared to be altered forever. You may not get the chance to be told again.

Pittsburgh Weekend Art Events: 7/17-19/09.

2009-07-16T22:50:00.005-04:00

Once again I have to apologize for being largely absent here at the blog this summer. Things are hectic, but I'm trying to keep up.

There is A LOT to do around town this weekend, and I'm sure to miss a lot. Here are some highlights:

Friday

If you have a functioning heart, you may want to consider stopping by Imagebox (4933 Penn, 7-10:30 PM) for a benefit for artist David Flynn. A pittance of 5 lousy bucks gets you beer, cookies, vegan pasta salad, and the chance to say that you are not wholly without compassion. Apparently Mr. Flynn has lots of hospital bills to pay, and is in desperate need of a replacement used laptop to replace one that was stolen. Bring your checkbook, as you wil have the opportunity to purchase some of his art as well.

The seasonal downtown gallery crawl is also happening Friday starting at 5:30PM. If you really want to find out what most of the folks in the region consider the "Cultural District" of the city, head for the smells and the traffic tie-ups of the Golden Triangle.

Meanwhile, at 8PM there will be hundreds of people walking around like zombies. But unlike every other weekend in the South Side, these will be in even scarier make-up. Celebrate the tradition of local legend Romero and shamble down Carson St. It's high satire, and there's supposed to be some party after the mass hike. Tell the entire drinking population of South Hills I said "Hi", and ensure that they continue to revel on the other side of town.

Saturday

Here's a shout-out to one of the 'Burgh's most unusual couples- whether considered separately or (most appropriately) together... Phat Mandee and Tommy Amoeba's Traveling Variety Show is jumping off at the New Hazlett Theater at 10:30 PM. I can only guess about the strange and wonderful sights they have for the lucky ones that show up for this event.

Saturday and Sunday

The SPF EXPO, for Pittsburgh's pre-eminent small press festival, is happening this weekend. There are two floors of vendors, workshops, panels, entertainment, and food. It's $5 for a weekend pass. If you just want to walk around aimlessly without participating in any cool stuff, there is no cover. Venture forth to the Regina Gouger Miller Gallery at CMU's Purnell Center for the Arts (5000 Penn Avenue). Best of all, you can watch me making a fool out of myself on Sunday afternoon, trying to moderate my first panel. What do I know about "art books"?! Here's the detailed schedule for the Expo.

Sunday

Head up Polish Hill (to the crossing of Brereton and Dobson Streets) for the 2nd Annual Art What You Got (Noon-8PM). Along with an artist and handicrafter's marketplace, you'll find ethnic grub like kielbasa and pierogies. Plus you can see some local bands, including one of my favorites- Timbeleza, a Brazillian drumming and samba outfit that got me moving one night over at Your Inner Vagabond. The organizers are convinced that they can avoid the hurricane winds that blew tents over at last year's gig. Go find out if they are prescient or merely plagued by hubris.

Bob Ziller Blooms Birmingham Bridge

2009-07-05T19:08:00.009-04:00

I was surprised early Sunday morning to get a call from my friend Bob Ziller, as virtually everyone I know would expect to hear back from me late in the afternoon rather than actually get me on the phone at that time. For some reason I was awake, and that was fortunate. I don't really enjoy documenting other folks' projects, but for Bob I'm usually willing to see what he's up to. So I pulled myself together and drove down to the Hive to find out what he had in mind. I quickly learned that it involved ladders, and secretly began to regret my decision. But when I found out what we were going to do, I got excited.

Bordering Fitzpatrick Street in the Hill District (a stone's throw from the house where Andy Warhol was born), there is this abandoned building that greets everyone at the end of the Birmingham Bridge. Bob decided to make some neighborhood improvements, and he wanted me along for the ride.

While I helped schlep some stuff back and forth (and manipulate some ridiculously unwieldy ladders), I discovered that Bob was perfectly capable of installing his work himself. That left me free to shoot a series of shots that ended up being pretty fun. Here I've included the before and after shots of the property. I can't imagine anyone would have any serious objection to this particular brand of public art. Bob plans to continue this activity, so please keep a look out for the next entry in the series.

In the meantime make it a point to travel northward over the Birmingham Bridge (from the South Side) sometime soon, because there is no guarantee this is going to last and it is really best experienced in person.

PHOTO CREDIT: David Grim

Pittsburgh Weekend Happenings: 7/3-4/09

2009-07-01T10:52:00.008-04:00

The great spectacle of the summer is upon us this weekend, and folks are finalizing their plans. I've asked myself what level of engagement I want with the outside world, and I've decided to make sure all of the signal lights on my car work. That being said, there is enough going on right here in the 'Burgh to compel me to stay close to home... so we'll see.

Friday

Do you want to know how the L-Ville got hip? Soul City Tours aims to tell you in their own walking tour of the Design Zone. Check out the upholstery store and the cupcake shop. Find 0ut what they consider a "Turkish Harem". And take a moment to spill a bit of brew for the long lost businesses that helped the neighborhood get where it is today (the Digging Pitt, Culpeppers, Ray's, La Vie, etc.). Make sure your guides show you where the ER Room is. You locals know what I'm talkin' about. The tour gets underway at 1PM. Call (412) 508-2942.

Contrary to my expectations, there IS a scaled-down version of First Friday Unblurred on Penn this month. And there is a handful of "must-sees". ARTica (5110 Penn) has Susan Constance, Michelle Gregio and a host of others. Garfield Artworks has Katie Jarrett, Jesse Best, and Masha Vereshchenko (etc.). And a definite highlight will be Through the Window with Sam Thorp and Carolyn Wenning at Most Wanted Fine Art (5015 Penn). Most of these events occur between 6 and 10PM, but show up at 7PM just to be safe.

Speaking of safe, Shadyside has their art walk Friday as well. I still can't understand why we can't stagger these monthly events instead of indulging in a pissing contest between hoods. WTF? Anyway, the Mendelson Gallery is featuring an opening for work by Ben Matthews & Alberto J. Almarza. There are some great promo images and a write-up at Bittersweet Harvest (a new blog dedicated to emerging artists in Pittsburgh- YAY!!). Also, you must stop in Gallerie Chiz (6-9PM, 5831 Ellsworth St.) for Laura Jean McLaughlin's Schlumpy Funk show. I feel like enough of an authority on the matter to say that she best embodies the virtues and attitudes as described in the manifesto of the same name.

Maybe a dance party is more your style. Brillobox has been bringing the good people Pandemic for several years, and for my money it's the most eclectic and interesting booty shake you'll find in town. Gypsy music, Brazillian Funk, and a whole lot of other stuff that will have you movin' even if you've never heard it before. Check it aht at 9:30.

The Big Butler Fair begins this weekend, and yes, it does have a demolition derby. See the link for details.

Saturday

Also, the Regatta is going on- but it sucks, so don't feel bad about pretending it's not happening. I blame it for the historical atrocities that happened at the Point during the last couple years. Find someone with a deck on the South Side slopes, and watch the fireworks from there instead. If you really need to see Three Dog Night in 2009, then I really can't help you anyway.

If you must give in to cliché and head to Mt. Washinton, I implore you to take a stroll down Shiloh Street and peep the "Art Marketplace". I don't know who is participating, but at least you'll be shopping local. It runs from Noon to Five (Sunday too), and includes bands.

Pittsburgh Weekend Events: 6/12-13/09.

2009-06-11T20:31:00.009-04:00

I realize that most prideful 'Burghers are likely to focus on the fortunes of their beloved Pens this weekend, and believe me... as far as vicarious pleasures of the sporting nature, I can think of few better than NHL hockey. Having said that, don't forget that you have many opportunities to engage in much more direct amusements, and on a much more intimate scale. For instance...

Friday

Local arts collective Unicorn Mountain is having the reception for a group show of participating artists, featuring many stellar works including those of rising star Elina Malkin. It all goes down at the Steve Mendelson Gallery (5874 Ellsworth Avenue, Shadyside) between 5:30-8:30. Participants include Jon Carling, Bill Wehmann, Jeff Schreckengost, Masha Vereshchenko, Ian Finch, David Grim, Christopher Kardambikis, Jenifer Cooney, Ben Kehoe, Beano, Christopher Cornwell, Tom Hall, Katherine Young, Amy Conroy, Brian Holderman, Laura Jean McLaughlin,
Paul Roden, and Valerie Lueth.

Continue the swank by making a hop to the North Side for the Urban Garden Party fundraiser at the Mattress Factory. Gourmet food, drinks, entertainment, artwork, and this year's "rock theme" should justify the exorbitant admission price. Besides you'll just feel cooler if you are there, rather than sitting at your local neighborhood bar doing whiskey shooters and talking about how great it feels to piss in a public sink (not that I know anyone who has ever done such a thing).

If you feel some pressing need to head downtown, stop by the SPACE gallery for "Smoke and Mirrors". Check out this roster- Cory Arcangel, Matt Barton, Chris Bearegard, Robin Brasington, Jacob Ciocci, Olivia Ciumo, Thad Kellstadt, Ladyboy, Guthrie Lonergain, Spencer Longo, Eileen Maxson, Jesse Jamaica McLean, Alex Miller, Jae Ruberto, Mike Smith, Scotty Vera, Jeffrey Vulture, John Daniel Walsh and David Wightman. Too bad I'm gonna miss this one. Also see ArtUp's "Homeland Insecurity" (937 Liberty, 8PM, $10).

And in the South Side (for the real masochists), Sam Thorp will be showing her latest work under the title "Adjournment" (7:30-11PM) @ The Rex (1602 East Carson). I've always enjoyed the clean lines and bright pallette of her portraits.

Saturday

If you want a window into the vast diversity of celebratory options in Pittsburgh, consider visiting the Cultural District on Liberty Avenue in glorious downtown for "Pride in the Streets"- a block party featuring DJs, food, and fierce fun. That gets underway at 7Pm, and costs a mere $20. Jennifer Holliday headlines, and while I don't know who that is, I am assured that she is famous, and honey... that's all that matters.

Or for a completely different scene, check out the free opening for Warhol Live at the Andy Warhol Museum (competing at the 7PM slot). This show focuses on the themes of music and dance in the great one's work. Also, you get a chance to see Dean and Britta (of the band Luna) for a very reasonable $10.

Artist Statement for "Vanishings"

2009-06-05T08:29:00.005-04:00

For those that either can't or won't be at my show tonight, here is my artist statement. If you would like to come to the reception, it is at Imagebox (4933 Penn Avenue in Garfield), from 7-10PM.

"About 'Vanishings':

I had the idea to visit Eastern Penitentiary last summer, in the midst of a particularly acrimonious national election. Originally I meant the series to be a commentary on the direction of our nation, and the political and social climate of our society. I believe that this original purpose would have been consistent with the spirit of Alexis de Tocqueville, the Parisian who came to the US in 1831 to study this specific institution (modeled on Quaker philosophies and beliefs), as well as the American prison system in general.

In the intervening year since I booked the show, the content has taken on a host of additional personal meanings. While the specifics of the events that have lent additional heft to my feelings about the show are best left unexplained at this point, I will say that the symbolic weight of “prisons” has made its mark on my spirit. I would suggest that we are all limited by walls, whether literal or figurative, self-constructed or imposed, and our challenge is to identify them and assess their true utility for our existence.

About my process:

All my shots are taken in the field, and there is absolutely no intentional post-production on my part. I make every effort to ensure that the final print looks as close as possible to the image I saw on my LCD screen when I took each photograph. My efforts are not intended to express a negative commentary about editing software, but they are essential to the immediacy of my work.

About purchasing the artwork:

Framed prints are $100. If you are especially economically-minded, you can purchase a naked one for $66. Please keep in mind that the frames in this show were hand-made by local artisans, and each image is limited to an edition of ten. The inks and papers used in the print process are meant to ensure lasting quality over a lifetime.

Thank you for your considered support,

My Name
My Phone Number
My E-Mail

I wish to extend my gratitude to the following individuals who helped make this show possible: John Mahood, Paul Roden, Valerie Leuth, Jeffry Grim, J. Cleo Zell, Jeanne Zell, and Katie Zell."

Pittsburgh Art Events: Weekend of 6/5-6/2009.

2009-06-04T21:21:00.010-04:00

This weekend arts summary is going to be a rush job, as I still have too much to do to prepare for my own obligations. Speaking of which- there is some unavoidable self-promotion about to happen, so bear with me...

Friday

Go to Unblurred (of course). For some reason, the Penn Avenue Arts Initiative schedule page is down and has been all day... so I suggest you juat show up somewhere along Penn (between Garfield and Friendship) and grab yourself a schedule. Make sure to stop at the Sprout Fund headquarters (5423 Penn, 5:30PM) for their annual social, visit ARTica (5110 Penn, where my friend Susan Constance is displaying some of her fine work). and come say "Hi!" to me at Imagebox (4933 Penn). Other highlights include Benedict Oddi at Modern Formations and Joey Kennedy at 5427 Penn.

Or alternatively, go on down to the opening of the Three Rivers Arts Festival. It will be jam-packed with sweaty cornballs eating fried foods and screaming kids with ice cream dripping down their chins. Seriously though- The Black Keys are playing for free, and (believe me) you'll have plenty of fun finding a place to park. If you do venture forth, you must see Tom Sarver's new installation, entitled "Bait & Tackle". It's great to have him back in the 'Burgh for the summer, while he's got a break from his fancy NY MFA program. Also, pop in at 937 Liberty for an AAP group show, and dig some pieces by my buddies Rick Byerly and Mia Tarducci Henry.

Saturday

Moxie Dada (1416 Arch Street, the North Side) has an opening reception for artist Connie Cantor's "Scribbling for Dummies", starting at 6PM. I don't know what crazy stuff she has planned, but Cantor has been laboring on the local arts scene for decades, and I'm certain that whatever she puts up will be worth looking at.

You should also plan on spending some time at the Zombo Gallery to see Eric Luden's latest batch of illustrative gems. Personally, I haven't missed one of his shows at the gallery yet, and I don't intend to start now. Busty chicks, gritty lizard-like con men, etc... who wouldn't want to take a gaze at that sort of thing? It's called "Chicks and Beer", and the opening runs from 6-10PM. There's also photography by Laura Petrilla, which I find fascinatingly odd, since our good ol' Michael D. insists that shutter-buggery isn't "real art". Perhaps he's had an epiphany?

If you need something to do during the day, check out the new thrift stores along Butler in Lawrenceville. Don't let the new crop of would-be hipsters get all the good stuff.

Now what?

2009-06-03T21:57:00.003-04:00

Things have been a bit of a blur for me lately, and I feel a bit self-conscious about slacking off... especially here on Serendipity. As many long-time readers of this blog know (and I honestly don't expect that there are many of you left), not too long ago I posted every single day. That's why I have arrived at my thousandth entry after a mere three years. Alas, such productivity couldn't continue forever. Of course I've been posting poetry and the occasional local events update. But I wonder who I'm serving at this point, and I'm not certain the answer is not "nobody". I do know that I exhausted the essay format I was using for much of the past few years. Perhaps I'll be inspired to return to that someday. I can't make any promises.

I had grand plans of doings something special for this occasion. I thought maybe that I'd go out and celebrate or (god forbid) write something extraordinary. Obviously the plans have changed, and you are getting this instead. I'm taking stock here, folks. A lot has changed in my life over the last three months and I'm still rearranging things. Perhaps I simply haven't felt emboldened enough to lay it all out here on the net. But I'm trying not to beat myself up over all of that. I do feel I've earned a break.

There have been a lot of benefits to doing this project, but very few of them match my original expectations. I've written book reviews that have resulted in personal and direct contact with the authors of some of those books. I've also generated some fairly robust hatred, and if you sift through the comments here (or at least those of several months ago), you'll get an eyeful. I've even lost friends over what I've decided to publish on the net. On the other hand, there are a few things that I feel proud of. A highlight for me was being hyperlinked in a column by a Huffington Post author (after the Ashley Todd incident). That little boon resulted in a nice sustained hike in traffic, which I've since pissed away. Also, I'll take this moment to brag that I predicted Barack Obama's ascension to the presidency in August of 2006.

Ultimately the most rewarding thing about writing Serendipity has been the experience of discipline and focus resulting from the arbitrary commitment I impulsively made to post every day. Whether or not the decision was made to boost my own self-esteem is probably beside the point. I feel like I learned something from the process. I hope it has been periodically edifying to its small audience as well.

This post isn't necessarily a "goodbye", but I do view it as a kind of release. I'd say that there's been a bit of a low fizzle here recently, and I'm sick of feeling like I've let myself down. So this is official notice that I may discontinue this public exposure at any time. I haven't quit writing entirely. In fact, I've written nearly a hundred poems over the last nine weeks. I've just stopped making it all immediately available to an unspecified and indeterminate readership. Maybe I'll take the time to be more deliberate in what I share. Or alternatively, I may simply sustain my current habit of stumbling along haphazardly. Anyway, if you are still reading this, then you have my appreciation and gratitude. Stop by now and again and you may find yourself surprised. Who knows?

Pittsburgh Art Events: 5/29-30/09.

2009-05-28T11:05:00.002-04:00

My apologies for not posting a weekend round-up here last week… I needed to get out of town, and I focused on preparing for that instead. But this weekend holds some surprises for you and yours, so grab a cup of coffee and peruse your options.

Friday/Saturday

While it’s true that I simply don’t go out to movies anymore, I feel compelled to mention a documentary film playing at the Melwood Screening Room in Oakland (8PM, both Friday and Saturday). “New Muslim Cool” concerns a former drug dealer named Jason Perez, who formed a community of Muslims, and moved to Pittsburgh’s own North Side. I won’t belabor you with the details, but I do encourage you to read more about the film over on the Pittsburgh Post Gazette’s website. There is a reception at 7PM on Saturday night.

Friday

At first I didn’t think anything art-related was going on this weekend, but my internet meanderings brought light to a number of events that I believe would be worth checking out.

If you are so inclined, you might want to check out “Comin at Ya ... Another 15 Minutes of Photos by Eric Holmes” at La Fond Gallery in the South Side (1711 East Carson St) sometime between 6 and 8PM. There are so few galleries left in this neighborhood that it’s pretty much off my radar anymore- but I know Holmes from back in the day, and I’d like to see him get a good turnout. He’s been a local supporter of Pittsburgh arts for years, and so y'all should return the favor.

On the Larryville tip, Fe Gallery (4102 butler St.) will host a reception for new works by local art school undergrads. It’s great to see this non-profit so active in the scene, and it’d be a shame if its productions weren’t well-attended. Go see “Grade A” some time between 7 and 9PM.

Fortunately for you and your tired dogs, your next destination is only a few yards from Fe. Your Inner Vagabond (4130 Butler St.) is having a “Granada Arts Education Project Benefit” featuring an art and poster exhibit, as well as bands (starting at 7P). The idea behind this thing is that teachers can integrate the arts into any subject area they teach. That’s good stuff I can get behind. Plus I do enjoy the venue AND Machete is one of the bands performing. If I wasn’t already committed to seeing another musical performance tomorrow night, this is where I would be.

Instead, starting at 10PM I’ll be over in the North Side at the New Hazlett Theater (6 Allegheny Square East). My buddy Slim Cessna is performing with his son George and local bass guitar hero Rob Loveclutch. Cessna’s been on a European tour with the Auto Club for the last couple of months, and it’s just a good feeling to know he’s back in town. If you haven’t seen his local combo (and you haven’t unless you were at the Zombo Galley in December), then you need to make an appearance. It’s an all ages show, but I implore you not to let that put you off- it’s only $3 stinkin’ bucks and there’s a bar area too.

Saturday

Occasionally the gall of local organizers, planners, and city functionaries is so prominent that I have to remember to breathe. Such is the case with the Pittsburgh Parks Conservancy. They have planned a “Children’s Carousel Tea” to be held at Schenley Park at 11AM. Now, that’s all well and good until you consider the price tag- $25 per kid and $50 per adult. For that nominal fee, attendees are promised lunch, treats and rides on the Merry-Go-Round. Awesome. Global recession, anybody?!

Believe it or not, cheaper entertainment is to be had on Saturday evening. Panza Gallery (115 Sedgwick Street, Millvale) offers an opening reception for the works of three artists-
Mark McLaughlin, Gloria Dufresne, and Pat Lee. The hours for this event are 6-9PM.

Afterwards pay Gooski’s (3117 Brereton Street) in Polish Hill a visit, and support the “Art What You Got Benefit Show” (starting at 9PM). This annual arts festival is only in its second year, so get on board while it’s still hip. UkuLizzy, DJ Mary Mack, and folk-pop band Horse Or Cycle will be providing you entertainment for the mere price of $5.

The All-Seeing I

2009-05-27T00:03:00.000-04:00

I may
Show you
All of these
Words,

And you
May form
All of your
Opinions.

Meanwhile
I know this
Is

At long last

A conversation
With myself.

Here
In this form
I don’t have
The luxury

Of objectivity.

Read yourself
Into the poem
If you will

And
If you can.

But
Don’t make
The mistake
Of thinking that
I had you
In mind

When I wrote
This,

Unless
You
Are a shape-shifter,

Able to
Inhabit every
Eye

That will ever
See these
Pages.

I think
It’s time
To acknowledge
Multiple
Centers

In myself
And
In the
Universe.

The Hegira (Vanishings opens 6/5/09 @ Imagebox)

2009-05-20T18:49:00.002-04:00

Prison walls
Are fading
Into the ether.

The yard
Is barren
Of ghosts

And
Inmates.

It’s been
Centuries

Since
The
Others
Visited,

But
I’ve
Stayed

To
Watch the
Shadows
On the wall.

I’ve always
Known

That if I
Stared
At them
Long enough

From
Between my eyes,

And
Met their illusion
With my own
Reflection,

I could
Release them
Forever,

And they’d
Be free
To join the light

As I left
For a better
Place.

Now

This is
What
I’ve found.-

Departing
Can be
Frightening,

And yet

Necessary
To continue
Our

Journey.

5/19/09

Advance Notice

2009-05-19T00:15:00.000-04:00

When the
Great modern-day
Poet died

His wishes were
Granted

And his
Gravestone
Read,

“Don’t Try”.

Until now
I puzzled over
What he meant

Or what
His words
Could mean.

I never looked
To an authority
For the answer

Although
Now I know
There is one-

His widow
Has explained
The sentiment
Succinctly.

But I figured
It out
Myself

And it only
Took thirty-eight
Years.

And here
It is:
Life is not
About
“trying”,

Because
That’s simply
An excuse
That keeps
Us

From
Manifesting
Intention,

And

A portent
That our will
Is never
Going
To happen.

Who has
Time

For that
Sort
Of thing?

5/18/09

Pittsburgh Art Events: 5/15-16/09

2009-05-14T16:04:00.001-04:00

Friday

The place to be tomorrow night is definitely Lawrenceville. Regular readers of my events updates probably shouldn’t be surprised by this. The L-Ville is firmly establishing itself as the most culturally diverse and stimulating neighborhood in the ‘Burgh.

Both The Framery (4735 Butler Street) and the Gallery on 43rd Street are having opening receptions. Elise Rugolo and Adrienne Borkowski are presenting their work at the former space, under the title “Traces of Light”. Rugolo makes mixed –media paintings and Borkowski is another among a large group of regionally-based assemblage artists. Meanwhile Diane Grguras is over on 43rd with a collection of pastel pieces.

After you’ve seen what you wanted at those locations, stop by the Fe Gallery @ 4102 Butler Street for their 5th Anniversary Celebration. Various artists (including yours truly) have donated their work to benefit this non-profit arts space. Reportedly, local luminaries like George Davis, Brian Holderman, and Rick Byerly have also chipped in to help. There will be a DJ (Kelly Carter of Milk Records), as well as refreshments at this party, so don’t whine about the $5 admissions fee. It jumps off at 8PM.

Saturday

There are a lot of yard and garage sales happening this weekend, so head on over to the Pittsburgh Craigslist and peep the listings. I’m not going to hip you to my intended destinations (don’t want the treasure-hunting competition, after all), but I am putting you on alert anyway.

Also, the Pittsburgh Dragon Boat Festival will be held at the South Side Riverfront Park starting at 11AM on the 16th. They’ve got displays, music, dance, martial arts, food, art and textiles. And can you guess the common thread? Asian culture, of course. It’s free and you have no excuse to miss it.

I’ll Sleep When I Can

2009-05-11T21:07:00.001-04:00

Many nights
I have expected
To fall asleep
Earlier
Than usual

And
That becomes
An easier objective
With each
Passing
Day.

I have
Doubled my
Sleep often

And still

Could likely
Stay in bed
Longer.

Certainly
There will
Come a time
When I can
Rest beside you

And
Slip readily into
A dream state
That others
Call suspension.

But
For now
I find it
Difficult

Not to
Look at you

And

Stay
Awake forever.

5/5/09

Pittsburgh Weekend "Art" Events: 5/7-8/09.

2009-05-07T14:35:00.003-04:00

If you were considering taking a roadtrip out of Pittsburgh, the upcoming weekend would be a nice time to do it. Not surprisingly (given the onslaught of diverse options last weekend) there isn’t a whole lot going on over the next couple of days. I suppose this will give you a convenient excuse to hang out with your mother. Just don’t mention the great abyss in the schedule to her, and it will be a pleasant surprise.

Anyway, I suppose it’s all for the good. I had a hell of a time narrowing the highlights a week ago. So here we go…

Thursday, Friday, Saturday

I don’t know much about dance, but I’m assuming the NewMOVES Contemporary Dance Festival at the Kelly-Strayhorn Performing Arts Center is worth a look-see over the next three days. From the little I’ve read about it, it seems to be an opportune chance to see a diverse selection of newer works by local choreographers. Dance Alloy, Attack Theater, Point Park and independents will all be represented. Check out the program HERE.

Friday

Every year the Mattress Factory calls in a guest curator to put together “Gestures: An Exhibition of Small Site-Specific Works”. This year is the 12th installment, and the pivotal figure behind it is Katherine Talcott. Previously Talcott was responsible for the Three Rivers Arts Festival visual arts program, and she has also selected work to show at the 937 Liberty Avenue Gallery downtown. There are 19 participating regional artists, including Kenny Marshall, Atticus Adams and Rise Nagin. It all happens at the annex (1414 Monterrey St.) from 7-9PM. It costs ten bucks (which seems a little steeper than usual) for the rabble, and free for Pitt and CMU students with ID.

If fundraisers are more your speed, you can check out two of them in the L-Ville Friday night. Both support the Lawrenceville Resource Fair and Community Celebration- an event to occur in the Allegheny Cemetery on the last Saturday of this month. The fun starts at the New Amsterdam (6-8PM), and continues at Remedy (10-2PM). These will cost you a few bucks for admission, but you’ll get the benefit of the sounds spun by local DJ superstars. No one’s asking for any super-sized sacrifices- do something for someone else for a change, and drink cocktails while you are at it.

Saturday

I don’t know about you, but I’ve always wanted to see the inside of a modern-day operating room without a bunch of bloody victims lying around. You can get a chance at Allegheny General Hospital this Saturday at 8AM. This is presented in part by the Association Of Perioperative Registered Nurses (AORN), the national association committed to improving patient safety in the surgical setting. For more information, call (412) 359-3808 or (412) 782-5439. They are even going to let you ask questions!!

After that, you might as well take in some sun (and good luck with that, my friend… I DID suggest a road trip, didn’t I?). The 12th Annual all-day Friendship Flower and Folk Festival is happening Saturday starting at 11AM. There will be lots of plants for sale, demonstrations, music, food, and raffles (why does anyone think those are a major draw?). It all goes down at Baum Grove (400 Roup Avenue). Come and find a healthy way to brown your thumb.

In the evening (6-9PM), make sure to visit Shawn Farester’s exhibition opening of sculptural pieces at Moxie Dada in the North Side (1416 Arch Street). The stuff’s made from metal and inspired by nature and “his interest in medieval times.” And Matt will likely be behind the bar, which in and of itself should be a major draw

No Longer In the Interim

2009-05-06T17:09:00.000-04:00

Midnight
Is thrust
Upon us
And
Calling out
For commitment.

Apparently
There are so
Very many
Pumpkins

And

Their
Collective
Sleep
Makes me
So very
Happy.

I remember
When I slept
Among them.

Nowadays
I dive into
12AM

Bracing myself
As if I were
A whirligig
Falling toward
The early
Morning.

Careful with that Advice, Eugene

2009-05-04T23:04:00.000-04:00

There will
Always
Be naysayers
And cynics

And

Good for them,
I guess.

They give the
Ne’er-do-wells
An audience.

Let them
Hang out
Among themselves
To share
Their
Strange fruits.

Let them
Choke on
Their resentments,
If they so
Choose,

But spit out
Their
Seeds of projection,
Lest they
Threaten to
Swell
Your throat.

Not everyone
Will choose
To find
The blessing
In a single
Union.

Yet to those
Who are not
Willfully
Blind,

Offer up
To them
This prospect

Of what
Can not only
Be dreamed,

But realized
As well.

While they
Must do their
Own seeking,

It can’t hurt
To reveal
The
Possibilities

To those
Who might
See.

5/4/09.

Fear off the Tracks

2009-05-03T14:01:00.000-04:00

This morning
I was talking to
A co-worker

About
F-15s and flyovers

And I remembered

Living
In my first
Apartment
By myself
In the mid-90’s.

That first night
After I moved in

I was startled
From deep sleep
By the rumblings
Of a passing
Train.

The tracks were
At the level
Of my window
Across the street

And the engines
Moved fast
Through
There,

Pulling
Screechy and
Poorly maintained
Boxcars
And tankers.

I have lived
Near such tracks
Throughout my
Life,

Both before
And after
The night I was
Jolted awake.

Often
I thought
Of hoboes
And freedom
And coal
And wide open
Spaces

That I had never
Visited.

Often
The sounds
Of movement
Over rails
In the night

And the eerie
Hollow
Of the low
Sustained whistle
Soothed me.

But on this
Particular night
I flashed on my
Childhood
In the 80’s.

For seconds
That could have
Been hours

Or an eternity

I believed that
The Cold War
Had returned

With fire and brimstone
And warheads.

It is odd
To think
That not so long
Ago

Children thought
Of a palpable
And final
Armageddon

Capable of freezing
One’s life forever
Before the
Anticipated pleasures
And rites
Of adulthood.

Children
Reduced to mere
Shadows
On walls.

Now
Modern-day
Cassandras
Speak of
Evil-doers with
Suitcase bombs
And packets of
Unidentified powders.

They warn us against
The next Depression

And inflation,

The collapse
Of the
American
Superpower

And
All our
Consumerist dreams.

They tell tales
About a clash
Of cultures
Based in
Morality and religion

And an ancient land
Returning to its
Biblical borders.

These are
Not
Truly frightful
Prospects

When considered
Next to an arbitrary
Impending
Annihilation for
All the peoples
Of the entire
Earth.

Those twilight
Borderlands
Kept the ten-year-old
Me
In nightmares
That obscured
Daydreams.

And even
Years after
The Wall fell…

Even now

I can feel
That fear

Constricting
My chest

Like that
Cigarette
I lit
After being
Shaken out
Of bed
By an oncoming
Train.

4/29/09

Pittsburgh Art Events: 5/1-2/09

2009-04-30T16:30:00.005-04:00

This weekend the art is jammed-packed into the evening hours of Friday. Apparently May 1st is such an auspicious date for openings that the galleries around town all seized the same moment to unveil their offerings. My advice to you? Pick-and-choose carefully, because you are bound to (once again) miss a lot of what there is to see.

Friday

I’ll get the vanity out of the way with the announcement that I will have a piece in a group show at the Pittsburgh Center for the Arts. It’s part of “SALIGLIA: A Seven Deadly Sins Exhibition”- which is juried and curated by Steven R. Mendelson, and presented by Pittsburgh Society of Artists. This is the first work that I’ve ever shown at this institution, so suffice it to say I am rather excited. Maybe I’ll even be nervous. Who knows? Meanwhile, there are seven additional exhibitions opening on Friday at PCA, including those featuring Christopher Kardambikis (of Encyclopedia Destructica fame) and Aasta Deth. This is an opportunity to see lots of diverse artwork while making just one stop. Come by 6300 Fifth Avenue, between 5:30 and 8PM.

While you’re in that part of town (from 6-8PM), you can jump into the Miller Gallery at CMU (5000 Forbes Avenue) for “From the Vault”- a selection of pieces by the 2009 BFA class, including Olga Brindar. These students are billing themselves as “panpsychists, selcouthists, paralogists, and strikhedonists.” Crack that code how and when you so choose.

Of course… since this happens to be First Friday, we have a full bill over in the Penn Avenue Corridor for the May Unblurred, Here’s the schedule. The presence of several unfamiliar venues is particularly conspicuous this month. There’s a new clothing store called Tweek (4913 Penn), tree photography at the storefront office of Friends of the Pittsburgh Urban Forest (5427 Penn), and three shutterbugs (including my friend Allison Pochapin) at 5131 Penn. There’s also a display of post-apocalyptic architecture down at EDGE studio (5411 Penn, drive there if you have the option) and shots from Route 66 by Scott Roller at Imagebox (4933 Penn). Be sure to visit the anchors as well- Garfield Artworks, Modern Formations, and Most Wanted Fine Art. Most of the stuff happens between the hours of 6 and 10PM. Can you handle all that?

And we’re not done yet, boys and girls. Because some local film industry people have collected some stuff for display at Mendelson Gallery (5874 Ellsworth Avenue) in Shadyside. Jolene Elyse Drylie, Mark L. Gualtieri, Smith Harper Hutchings, Shawn Watrous & Kevin Wenner are included in “The Scenics”, opening 6-9PM. Good stuff indeed.

At the risk of sounding like Ron Popeil, I feel some obligation to mention the fact that there’s EVEN MORE to see. Because the Society for Contemporary Craft is hosting their first reception (5:30-8PM) in more than half a year- “Beyond Shared Language: Contemporary Art & the Latin American Experience”. Don’t let the swanky atmosphere of this Strip District location (2100 Smallman Street) put you off- you are welcome to browse, and I have enjoyed my previous visits there. If they let a scumbag like me in… well…

Finally, Zombo Gallery (4900 Hatfield St.) is once again rolling out the art. This go ‘round they have works by Kill Taupe. The show is called “Imaginary Friends Club”. I have no idea what that’s all about. But the reception lasts from 6-11PM, making this a possible last stop for your meanderings on what should be a very busy night.

Saturday

We’ve got slim pickings after the whirlwind of activity on Friday. But Boxheart (on Liberty Ave. in Blooomfield) has the opening for Kim Curinga’s “Legacy: Digital Paintings Reception”. Check it after 5PM. Have fun.

Yinz is a shibboleth.

2009-04-29T21:24:00.001-04:00

Occasionally I come across a word that has such a compelling spoken form or appearance that I file it away for study at a later date. Today, for some reason, I thought of the word “shibboleth”. I had no idea what it meant, but believed it had something to do with uttered curses. It turns out that I wasn’t even close to its definition. It’s a term tied to a very specific event, biblical in nature. Apparently there was a war between the Gileadites and the Ephraimites, in which the former prevailed. When the latter group tried to circumspectly escape across the Jordan River, the Gileadites set up checkpoints to impede their passage. I guess there was no way to tell an Ephraimite by appearance, so a test was necessary.

“Shibboleth” is the Hebrew word for “the part of a plant containing grains, such as an ear of corn or a stalk of grain”. In context it could also refer to a stream or torrent. It seems that its distinguishing characteristic to the Gileadites was that the dialect of the Ephraimites did not include the “sh” sound. Instead they said the word with a hard “s”. Once an Ephraimite was caught out, he/she was quickly dispatched to death. There was no hiding from the tongue’s inability to articulate this word. After this event, the definition of “shibboleth” slowly shifted toward its modern day usage. Now it refers to anything that can specifically identify a person as part of a social or regional culture.

The stakes are rarely as high as they were during the time of the origination of the new meaning of “shibboleth”. Likely no one has ever been killed for saying “y’all” or “youse guys” instead of “yinz”. On the other hand, I’ve learned that the word “lollapalooza” was used in this manner by American soldiers to identify Japanese infiltrators during WWII. Similarly the G.I.’s used baseball knowledge to distinguish Americans from German spies. God help those who preferred basketball, or no sport at all. I guess they faced a minor risk of being shot by their own comrades at a sentry post. Regardless, this factoid attests to the importance of the sporting life in the United States.

Indeed I’ve been aware of fandom as an essential component in accessing the world of the red-blooded patriotic male. If you go out to the bars and have to interact with a stranger, it helps to be able to toss around some names, whether individuals or favored teams. Being able to do this goes a long way toward identifying yourself as kinfolk without actually having to reveal anything about your personal life. If you are out having a drink on your own, this can be important to remember. I’ve known more than a few women who have adopted this trick in order to make contact or cadge free drinks. But of course there’s something rather unseemly about that, right?

While I don’t necessarily enjoy having to invest time in collecting a rudimentary base of sports knowledge, I will admit to being taken with the idea of a shibboleth as a password. How great would it be to live in a larger society with members that could be identified by a common appreciation of art and literature? Perhaps the answer is “not so much” for the intellectually lazy. Anyway, I suppose I am capable of experiencing a special enjoyment from being an adherent to a smaller, more select group. As our culture becomes more and more stratified due to the ever-expanding access to a wealth of content spanning centuries, we will likely see an increasing reliance on all the forms and varieties of the shibboleth. How delectable…

The 1st Photo.

2009-04-28T21:46:00.002-04:00

copyright 2008 David M. Grim

What emerges
from the primordial ooze,

a spectral creature
of light?

Or the shadow
of
some spirit
much
more
ancient.

Pittsburgh Art Events: 4/24-27/09.

2009-04-23T14:31:00.003-04:00

This weekend there’s a time management workshop on offer down at Duquesne. I’m not going to offer you the details, but I will have you know that this talk would have been useful for fitting in all of the great events happening over the next several days. There’s so much to do that you probably won’t have time to listen to a lecture about scheduling. But if you find yourself amenable to the suggestion, have a quick scan over my picks…

Friday

To be honest, I have no idea whether or not the seasonal Downtown Gallery Crawl has morphed into this thing called “One Night Stand”… but it sure seems like the Cultural Trust is in the mood for a makeover. Several galleries in the Golden Triangle are hosting receptions with live entertainment on Friday, and it might be an efficient use of your time to drive around for 45 minutes or so and look for a proper parking spot. Mary Mack will be spinning to a backdrop of Czech photos at SPACE, Netherlands-based Telcosystems will appear to support the “at times visually violent, sonically extreme and physically intimidating” art displayed at Wood Street, and there will be spoken word by Brian Francis at Future Tenant. Apparently there’s an after party at Remedy in Larryville. It all (and more) gets underway at 7:30PM.

Perhaps you missed Tim Kerr’s opening at Zombo Gallery (4900 Hatfield Street) a few weeks ago? The closing is Friday from 6PM to around 10PM (or so). Take your time and read the words on his paintings. It seems like a bit of a risky choice to write directly on your visual work. But in this case, I found it rather inspiring.

The Brew House Distillery program annually offers emerging artists six-month residencies at their facility on 2100 Mary Street in the South Side. Stop by at Space 101 (from 7-11PM) for the opening reception starring the latest batch of home-grown creators. Just get out of that hood before the suburban tools start to flood in with their cheap beer piss and whiskey-muscles.

Friday/Saturday

My buddy Tom Henry is performing his wryly wacky form of comedy at the Improv in Homestead for a three night stretch (starting Thursday @ 8PM, with shows @ 8PM and 10PM on Fri and 7PM and 9PM on Sat), opening for national comic T.J. Miller. It’s $15 per show, plus money enough for the two drink minimum. Drop in and show support for the local jokester. If you don’t laugh at least once, then… well, um… then you’re a douchebag?!

Saturday

Ok, I haven’t really ridden a bike in years. But I do appreciate it when I see others doing so. That’s why I’m mentioning the pancake breakfast at the East Liberty Whole Foods on Saturday morning (8 AM). It’s $7, sponsored by the Community Design Center, and offers guests a chance to register for Pedal Pittsburgh. I can only speculate, but I imagine there’s nothing more pleasant than having a stomach full of griddle cakes expanding in your belly as you two-wheel up-and-down the hills of the ‘Burgh.

If you need to sit after your ride, stop by (11AM) at Fe Gallery in the L-Ville and find out “how art stuff happens” @ the Workshop for the Working Artist. It’s $5 (which should give you an essential clue in solving the thematic problem posed herein), and features local scenesters including Jennifer Baron, Susan Blackman, Eric Shiner, and T Foley. Then at 2PM you can check out the Ralph Munn Creative Writing Workshop, led by photo-essayist and memoirist Sandra Gould Ford, @ the Carnegie Library in Oakland. That one’s free.

Permit me to say that one of the major highlights this weekend should be the reception for the one-week run of CMU –grad Olga Brindar’s “Sketchbook Release: Moments and Minutiae” at the Panza gallery in Millvale (115 Sedgwick Street). I’ve been checking out her drawings for a few years now, and I’m excited for her first solo exhibition. Olga is a young artist who’s not afraid to put herself on display, and we are all the better off for it. It is imperative that you fit this into your Saturday agenda (6-9PM).

The aforementioned Remedy (5121 Butler St) is hosting an opening/reception (from 11PM-1AM) for their in-house muralist Emmeric Konrad. The theme is “Drawings Done in Bars & the Paintings They've Inspired”. Make sure to visit the dining room and learn what his art does for your appetite(s). Have their fine cooks make you somethin’ good while you are at it. I recommend most everything.

Saturday/Sunday

Art all Night, Pittsburgh’s premiere non-juried visual and auditory extravaganza starts at 6PM on Saturday night and runs until Sunday @ 2PM. It’s a Lawrenceville annual tradition, and takes place at the Red Warehouse (3510 Smallman Street) this year. According to the “official” numbers, last year saw 810 participating artists and attracted over 10,000 guests. Get there early for parking and refreshments. And if you want to display your work, drop off is Saturday afternoon (Noon-4PM). See the website for all the details you need. And yes… it’s all free.

Ask Heisenberg

2009-04-22T18:04:00.001-04:00

Sign says
“Leave No Trace”
And it gives me
Pause.

Words
At once impossible
And potentially
Enlightening.

When conformed to
Assiduously,
The imprecation
Means

“No
One
Lives
Here”

And

We know
That ain’t
True-

A denial of
All the selves
Occupying a
Particular
Territory,

The idea
Itself provoking
Fear in each
Individual.

And yet

If adhered to
Mindfully
We can open
A window
On a reality
Beyond
Our existence.

Wouldn’t it be
Just something

If everyone
Took the
Opportunity
To leave
No trace?

A national
Holiday
Might be
Declared

If such honor
Didn’t contradict
The essential
Premise.

Still

People might
Embrace intention
If they allowed
Themselves
To simply
Witness

For just one day.

He and His

2009-04-20T19:44:00.000-04:00

I saw a boy
Punching another
And
Wanted to
Know why.

A friend had called
His sister
A ho.

He admitted
That he thought
this true.

And
Told me about
His sister
And some guy
In a shower
Together

And

Said that
He had
Her
As well.

That
I found
Unnecessary.

Double
Standard aside,
I was a bit
Mortified.

Perhaps
I’m glad
I had
A brother.

Yours and Mine.

2009-04-17T17:55:00.000-04:00

Pick up
Those things
That fall
From pockets.

Give them
Back

Or use them
Better.

Pittsburgh Weekend Events: 4/17-18

2009-04-16T17:43:00.003-04:00

Now that the unseasonably cold weather and grey skies have passed, it’s time to get outside and enjoy April. ‘He” has risen indeed and you Christians need not abstain from vice anymore (after all, didn’t he die for your sins?!) - take lots of showers and you know what will happen in a couple of weeks…

There are a lot of options this weekend… many of which are not specifically “art-related”, so what the hell- check ‘em out.

Friday

Did you know that The CMU activities board annually brings to Pittsburgh some of the best indie rock bands on the national scene? Did you know that you can show up on the CFA lawn and see super-group The New Pornographers and Ted Leo’s band for FREE? You can if you get there several hours before the 8PM scheduled show time. Bring plenty of liquids and whatever else you might require for the wait.

If happiness isn’t your bag, you can stop at the Warhol for a Depression double feature (including John Ford’s Grapes of Wrath and a Busby Berkely film). That’ll cost you $10. Check the listings for the times.

You could also consider taking an evening walk through Pittsburgh’s best neighborhood- the Lawrenceville Blossom Tour is here once again. There are 25 establishments giving out free seeds in honor of Earth Day. Get in touch with Maya Haptas of the Lawrenceville Corporation at (412) 782-5100 ext 103 for more details.

Maybe you want to continue spending time in the great outdoors? Consider checking out the Public Star Party at Mingo Creek Park Observatory. The Amateur Astronomers Association Of Pittsburgh supplies the telescopes. It gets underway just before sunset. I’ve never tried it, but I’m pretty sure I’d see a UFO.

There are also a couple of openings downtown at 707/709 Penn Gallery. Apparently Joe DeFerrari’s keeping tabs on Isabella Rossellini. He’s put together an exhibit (Ritual Decadence) examining animal mating rituals at Future Tenant, and the opening starts at 6PM. Over at 707/709 you can see Michael Ninehouser’s meditations (On This, The Land) on early man, familiar fables and gospel myths. That reception runs from 5-7PM.

Saturday

If you don’t stay out too late partying, you can take advantage of several events this morning. There are flea markets at St. Louise DeMarillac's LeGras Parish Center (320 McMurray Road, Pittsburgh), St Aloysius (3614 Mount Troy Road, Reserve Township), and Saint Gabriel Of The Sorrowful Virgin (5200 Greenridge Drive). Do a bit of hunting for the details if you are interested. If you can’t prepare yourself, then there’s no way you are going anywhere early enough to make the trip worthwhile.

Alternatively, you could nerd out with two other destinations. Grab your caped crusader costume and head out to North Park for the Superhero 5K Run/Walk. No, I am not kidding. It starts at 9AM and fittingly benefits the Parental Stress Center. The Superhero Foundation (which operates a similar event in Austin, TX) seeks to raise awareness about child abuse prevention. If you move quickly (like you should in a leotard) you can meet the regional "Star Wars" fan group Garrison Carida at the Warhol. They will be hanging out (apparently dressed as stormtroopers and such) to support the museum’s “Vader Project” exhibit). Show up at 1PM and they won’t sic the Death Star on you.

So yeah… geek out. But make sure you don’t beat yourself up over it. If you have that tendency (and you are a writer), you should take a minute (10AM) with psychotherapist Don Laird at the Greentree Public Library. Presented by the Pittsburgh Writers Project, Laird is hosting a discussion about the anxiety-ridden prospect of facing down your “inner critic”. That may be a debilitating thought, but what’s your alternative? (loser)

Once you get through with your daytime activities, ya might want to think about seeing the Squonk Opera at the Hillman Center for Performing Arts (7:20PM, $17-20). The expense might give you pause, but I assure you that this group is well worth seeing. I’ve done so myself on occasion.

Or if you’re feeling frisky… splurge on a ticket ($50 general, $100 Velvet Lounge, $250 Dirty Donor) for the Attack Theater’s Dirty Ball (8 pm - midnight 135 51st Street, Lawrenceville). You’ll be contributing to the dance troupe’s cause, and you might even get (un)lucky with a partner of your own choosing. Who says you gotta settle for free internet porn? The organizers promise that it will be luscious, flirty and salacious. And I believe that drinks and food are covered in the admission price. Damn, that’s tempting.

At the end of the night, I understand if you want to dance. You have a choice at 10PM. The Shadow Lounge has Classic Material #24-"These Are The Breaks" Edition, with the “Breakbeats that have shaped many classic hip-hop tracks.” And the New Amsterdam is offering the ultimate after-party with the production teams of Hijack and Humanaut, “teaming up for night of solid house and minimal”. Dress in layers, yo.

A Message From the Sponsors

2009-04-15T23:59:00.000-04:00

The best words
I heard
This morning:

“Restrain from this
Foolishness
Today”

Don’t kick
Anyone

Don’t see
Anyone
Kick
Anyone

Not even
Yourself

When you
Are
Down.

Sleep Deprivation

2009-04-09T20:35:00.001-04:00

Lately I haven’t been sleeping quite as much as I usually do. There are a number of reasons for this change in my schedule, and I’m not going to outline them. No doubt those factors contribute to my attitude regarding my decreased hours of slumber, so I’m not willing to generalize the effects of sleep deprivation based upon my own personal experiences. But as with many other things that manifest in my life, I have become curious and compelled to do a bit of exploration into the subject. Naturally the scope of my research has been limited, and so I implore readers to take that into consideration as I share my thoughts.

First of all, there doesn’t seem to be any kind of firm scientific consensus on the deleterious effects of not sleeping. People have gone as long as 449 hours voluntarily without sleep (Maureen Weston, 1977). Past that, there are cases of folks claiming to have gone up to 33 years without their z’s (Thai Ngoc form Vietnam). Such individuals seem to report an inability or lack of desire to sleep. Tellingly, the doctors who have examined such subjects report little to no adverse reactions. Yet a quick internet search revealed that a lack of “adequate rest” can result in impaired memory, imperfect concentration, a depressed immune system, reduced stress coping mechanisms, compromised decision-making, hallucinations, hypertension, slurred speech, depression,irritability, slower reaction times, and tremors,

And yet… much of the research resulting in such findings is difficult to verify for human beings. After all, it’s inhumane to subject the most “sophisticated” of animals to these types of lab experiments. So basically we know what happens to rats under conditions of sleep deprivation. But I don’t know how much further we can go with those findings. There seems to be a lot of contradictions when it comes to applying any of these conclusions to Homo Sapiens. For instance, you might easily read that a lack of adequate rest can cause you to lose weight, yet another site will tell you that the same thing causes a chemical imbalance that makes you want to eat more and gain pounds.

So I would assume that sleep deprivation affects different people in varying ways, much like any other human condition. If you’d like to see a pessimistic portrayal of someone suffering from this “malaise”, check out Brad Anderson’s The Machinist, with Christian Bale. Five minutes into the film, you’ll realize what side of the weight fluctuation debate Anderson sides with. You’ll also catch a smattering of the aforementioned symptoms associated with the inability to sleep properly. To get an opposite perspective, try looking for accounts of Eastern mystics who claim to need absolutely no sleep and suffer no ill effect. Maybe you’ll find the key to enlightenment.

As for me, I can’t really say that what I’ve been experiencing is all that extreme or out of the ordinary. I have bouts of drowsiness akin to what I imagine narcolepsy would feel like. I’m used to getting about six hours a day, and I nod off at that level about as much as I’ve been doing lately. Perhaps I function at a perpetual deficit of sleep. I have noticed that the barrier between what I understand to be my conscious and subconscious seems to be getting increasingly permeable. And that’s not a particularly worrisome development, In fact, I rather enjoy it. If it weren’t for the dream state accompanying REM, I think I could willingly part with my need to sleep altogether, If “they” ever devise a pill that makes it unnecessary, I’m sure I’ll try it.

On Intention.

2009-04-07T16:28:00.000-04:00

Y’all listen up, because I’ve been thinking a lot about the subject of this post. I’ve noticed a distinct lack of attention to intentionality in words and deeds. I’m not simply throwing stones against the glass either. I’m not exempting myself from this characterization. It’s just that there’s a rash of reactionary response flowing out of the collective consciousness, and it’s starting to chafe a bit. I believe that a lot of people are finding themselves doing things without due prior consideration. I understand all about blowing in the wind and blooming where one’s planted, but I think that there are appropriate places to use those approaches and others where a different strategy might be in order.

I’m not trying to dictate terms, or offer advice, or come off as judgmental. What I’m proposing is only a suggestion- take a moment to breathe and center yourself before you make that next rash move. Truth is consequence and results are inevitable. You are having a palpable effect on the rest of us, whether you realize it or not. So simply consider whether you are being authentic to yourself. Be rational, but don’t discount your emotions. There is a lot at stake.

Choose every word carefully unless you are in the space where you can trust your intuition. And remember what we’ve learned about climate change. I’m not talking about this phenomenon at a global level, but rather a personal one. You may believe that you have figured yourself out. Perhaps you think that you have completed yourself. But if so, try to remember that you are merely playing catch-up. There’s nothing wrong with learning from the past. However… you are only doomed to repeat it if you make the decision to do so, whether or not you are doing it consciously or reflectively. And even then, it will be an imperfect recapitulation because the universe has since rearranged itself.

My truth is that we are about to see a paradigm shift. There is too much happening around us to believe otherwise. Feel free to embrace your fear as long as you need to. Material attachment is a difficult thing to contend with, especially when you’ve used it to form your identity. If you want to move on, you might as well dance. If you handicap yourself, you shouldn’t be in the business of blame. Be on the lookout for your insecurities, and find someone you love to talk to about them. I believe that together, we can transcend our current consensual reality. But intention is necessary.

You Can Have My Gun...

2009-04-06T16:34:00.001-04:00

Do you remember the campaign rally where John McCain was finally forced to confront the escalation of the hateful rhetoric that seemed to plague his campaign? In the weeks after Sarah Palin was named the VP candidate, certain bad seeds began to whip the reactionary crowds into frenzied mobs, and there was some shady invective being tossed about. McCain had to reassure an old biddy that Obama did indeed love his country, and that he wasn’t a Muslim, nor was he a terrorist. I remember feeling the bad juju in the air, and there was a period when I felt a palpable fear that the future president would be attacked, and maybe even killed. Fortunately a combination of effective security and cooler heads prevailed, and our man was sworn in without incident (other than a John Roberts gaffe during the administration of the oath).

I realized at that time that there was a sizable minority in this nation that would never accept the legitimacy of his ascension. Granted the same thing applied during the Bush terms, but I don’t ever remember any reporting of credible threats against his life. The man just didn’t inspire as much hatred among the groups likely to engage in politically-minded violence. He was an anti-tax, flag-waving Christian. And he never made the extreme right worry that he would take away their guns. Obama, on the other hand, had few qualms about stating his support for gun control. He even publicly expressed his support for the handgun ban in DC (overturned recently by the Federal Supreme Court).

Within the past few months firearms purchases have spiked dramatically. Some of this increase has been due to a growing wave of gun smuggling flowing from the United States to Mexico, a nation currently in the midst of chaos caused by violent drug wars. But I believe that political paranoia and insecurity in-country is the driving force behind the bulk of this activity. For some reason, it seems that there will always be a segment of society that believes that the Democratic Party seeks to eliminate the Second Amendment Rights ensured by the government. No amount of logical reasoning or patient explanation seems to allay the fears of this group. They trend toward the extreme. And because they think that knock on the door could come at any time, they stockpile weapons and ammunition.

Such appears to have been the case with 22-year old Richard Poplawski. A dishonorably discharged Marine, Poplawski killed three police officers who responded to a domestic dispute call early this past Saturday morning. Apparently his mother (who he lived with) got into an argument with him after his cat pissed on the floor. After mama called the 5-0, Poplawski donned his bulletproof vest, brandished his illegally acquired AK-47, and waited for his moment of confrontation. Those cops never had a chance. And to add to the senseless tragedy of this event, there seems to have been evidence that Poplawski was insane, despite the denials of his friends and family. He also carried a record which included disorderly conduct and protection from abuse orders.

No doubt there will be additional information about the sad life of Richard Poplawski filtering out into the media in the coming week, and during what is sure to be a highly publicized criminal case involving capital crimes. A quick internet search reveals possible ties to a Neo Nazi white supremacist group called Stormfront. If you want to have a look at that stuff… do your own research. But you don’t have to track down the Aryan brotherhood to hear alarmist wingnuts sound the clarion call. Just tune into any number of conservative hack radio hosts like Limbaugh, Hannity, and/or Glenn Beck. They are not at all shy about provoking hate to advance their own selfish aims in their sick games. Unfortunately, they aren’t about to be held accountable for unsettling the deeply disturbed... people like Richard Poplawski. I think we’re going to see a lot more of this stuff over the next couple of years.

Pittsburgh Art Events: 4/3-4/09

2009-04-02T17:33:00.003-04:00

So what’s it going to be like this weekend? Will this Thursday foretaste of the weekend reflect its flavors? Hell if I know. But I do know this… there are plenty of options tomorrow and Saturday. Take a minute or two to scan this post and you just might find something to make your mouth moist.

Friday

I could almost be forgiven for believing the Pittsburgh Arts scene was in hibernation for virtually the entire winter (with a few notable exceptions, of course). So this First Friday represents a wake-up call for those of you who stayed tucked in through the long, cold season.

Unblurred features the return of the Modern Formations Spring Salon Annual Juried Exhibition. This is often a highlight on Penn Avenue (4919 PENN AVE), and through the years I’ve been exposed to more than a few exciting young artists there- Andy and Ben Kehoe, Katherine Young, Gabe Felice, and Jairan Sadeghi among them. Naturally there are no guarantees, but you could certainly find more futile ways to spend your time. Have at it.

Elsewhere you might run into some throat singers from the steppes of Central Asia (Garfield Artworks- 10 PM, $10 @ 4931 PENN AVE), or be offered an opportunity to take a free hour-long Argentine Tango crash course (5020 PENN AVE 3RD FLOOR,7-8PM, Free). If that ain’t your bag, you can check out the MOXBOX Fine Art Party (5014 PENN AVE) or see an opening for a mosaic down the street at the Pittsburgh Glass Center (5472 PENN AVE, 6-9PM). Carol Speranza has her hand-cut paintings at the International Children’s Art Gallery (5020 PENN AVE) and Dawn Hartman is displaying photos from Ghana at ImageBox (4933 PENN AVE).

After you’ve rambled along the Penn Avenue Corridor, make at least a quick digression to the Zombo Gallery for a look at the Folk Art of Tim Kerr. Apparently dude plays in a band… which wouldn’t ordinarily impress me, but I saw the image on the hot card, and it does look good. I sure do like to look at drawings. See ‘em here.

Likewise there is at least one opening downtown (@SPACE), and of course the competing first Friday over on Ellsworth in Shadyside. Maybe that’s where you belong instead?

Saturday

Moxie Dada (1416 Arch Street on the North Side) returns this month with a show of sculptures curated by Shannon Kuhns. Participating artists include the aforementioned Kuhns, Thomas Brunger, and Elizabeth Ashe Douglas. I find it hard to believe that despite the longstanding efforts of the proprietors, there are still a lot of otherwise savvy scenesters that have yet to visit the old firehouse that the gallery now inhabits. Perhaps you ought to do something about that…

Ok, so I guess I can quit scolding you. I’ll just drop one more suggestion before I leave off. The David Lawrence Convention Center (downtown PGH) is hosting Tekkoshocon- a celebration of Anime and Japanese Culture. It runs from Friday until Sunday, and they seem to have a full schedule planned. I don’t know if I can slip in for a couple of hours or not, but I sure do feel like trying. Cosplay, vendors, fan art… who wouldn’t want to go?

April What?

2009-04-01T11:59:00.000-04:00

The month of showers is upon the land and people will start to get restless, echoing the essential upheaval of Spring. The pollen in the air will soon tickle the cilia, and those who don’t inure themselves with cigarettes will reap its full blessing, whatever that is. Reproduction is the motivation behind this arc of the cycle, and some will take that impulse too literally. And yet others will channel it into strange and sundry activities, which will be on display all over town.

Breathe in deep and absorb the fecundity- for within time the simmering, sweltering, languid heat of summer will lay like a heavy wool blanket over your spirit and make you careless.

And so it is that this first day of April is a holiday. It’s been given an ignoble name- with a message of playful warning. Suppose this was the birth of the God of Mischief. How would you choose to honor that event? Would you do a head count of your friends, taking care to plan a surprise for every one of them? Or would you alternatively plot to release your demons in what appears to be a temporarily acceptable manner? Which of these would make you the fool, and who would be fooled?

Take a moment to consider that the number of The Fool is often said to be “0”, the value itself a great cosmic joke causing much consternation. But remember too that this figure is Major Arcana, and thus has multiple faces. (S)he is alternatively a jester, a mad man, a vagabond, and a beggar. (S)he may carry roses or a bindle… may be pursued by a cat or a dog, and situated between judgment and the world. Even in modern translation, this joker is most often a wild card. If you play a game with “trumps”, the Fool is an excuse for not following suit.

Apparently April 1st is a day of sanctioned irreverence. Perhaps we can indulge ourselves a bit. Bereft of reason, The Fool stands at the edge of a precipice, and risks a long slide or heavy collision, depending on the nature of the fall. And yet… and yet… perhaps (s)he will sprout wings (or a parachute) and attain smooth landing. The spirit seeking experience has earned the chance to risk a leap of faith.

And so we return to this day, year after year, and people give themselves the permission to act out their scripts. But just as with jokes, there is a seed of truth embedded in every trick. Perhaps it’s wise to pay close attention to deflection, obscuration and diversion- for likely there is someone sizing you up and spinning a web. Pay attention to the signs along the road. The Fool’s Journey can be many things, but don’t be shocked or embarrassed if you find yourself rendered naked in front of the eyes of the World.

Gotta Love Those Fundamentalists.

2009-03-31T16:10:00.001-04:00

I find it a bit of a shame how fundamentalists and other scallywags have perverted the meaning of the New Testament. I’m not saying that I particularly buy into the worldview of this famous tome, but I’m not willing to discount whatever lessons can be gleaned from it just because some freakishly empty robots want to fight over it.

It’s especially ironic that folks who would spend time memorizing quotes from the gospels are so resistant to doing even a modicum of research that would help provide context and deeper understanding. How many people have ever heard of the Council of Nicea? Constantinople convened it in 325C.E. I can’t claim to be anything near an expert on this topic, but I am aware of certain details that compel my attention.

The official record seems to suggest that the sun-worshipping Emperor was making a sincere attempt at achieving a consensus of opinion of all Christendom. It might not surprise you that I find this interpretation impossible. Constantinople was most concerned with consolidating the empire. A means of social control was necessary for the continuing influence of the Roman leaders.

Christianity ceased to be something that could possibly attain consensus when Jesus Christ died. As soon as he wasn’t there to speak for himself and answer questions, varying interpretations of his meaning arose out of the individual personalities that had encountered him. Eventually all types of people that had never even seen him alive began to hold forth on the subject. Did you ever play the “telephone game” in elementary school? There you go.

So a bunch of influential priests and power brokers sat around a table three hundred years after Christ, and decided to arbitrarily designate some “truths”. They summarized their conclusions in the Nicene Creed. One of the differences of opinion represented at the Council included whether or not Jesus was the literal “son of God” rather than a figurative one. That alone should give the fundamentalists pause.

Do Not Squander Your Magick.

2009-03-30T16:22:00.002-04:00

We are constrained
By the idea of the finite

A parlor trick of matter
That tries to suggest
Parameter

Perhaps you believe
In the
inconsequential.

I don’t

Pick your spots
With intention

And I will too.

Try to be aware
That there are games
Being played
With the truths
Of others.

And that they all
Have
Consequences.

Rivers and Streams.

2009-03-27T16:09:00.000-04:00

Perhaps we don't all appreciate the rivers as much as we should. When I was coming up I didn't have a lot of connections to them. Sure, I was near enough to the Delaware to realize its importance, but in an immediate sense the only river I was aware of was the one that flowed down the street at the bottom of my hill. It happened so rarely that I was always mesmerized when a flood cascaded waters down the surrounding hills and on to Sumner Avenue. I felt sometimes that I might be compelled to grab an inner-tube and float right down to the Little Lehigh. There was something about the idea of being borne along in the stream that fascinated me. I wasn't scared, but I did have a healthy respect.

When I got a bit older my Dad planned a white water trip for the family. I don't remember where we went, but I think it was in the Poconos and I believe the river-guide company was called Scotty's Tours. Somehow industry had discovered a way to harness that river and create some fairly exciting rapids. We opted for tubes instead of rafts, and that seemed like the proper decision in retrospect. I remember that at one point there was a white wolf traversing the riverbank and keeping an eye on me. He seemed to follow me for miles, but being just a kid I'm sure I lacked the kind of accurate perspective that could delimit the actual physical space covered. Then upon exiting the water, I got assaulted by a stinging insect. It didn't ruin my day or the memory of it.

It was a long time before I had a similarly intense experience on a river, and when it happened it was on the Lower Yough. I was about to get married and my friends wanted to do something unconventional for me. At first there was some animated discussion about whether we should take a structured trip or simply go down by ourselves. Fortunately we rallied to the former. Our six-man boat went down immediately before Dimple Rock, and we were swept underneath. My helmet scraped along its bottom, leaving scuff marks on the yellow plastic. I was the first to emerge, and thus was unable to grab the tow line that was thrown parallel to the spot I surfaced. I took a deep breath and went down the next 100 yards on my back.

Eventually I reached the gateway to the next set of rapids, where a little man in a kayak told me to swim to the bank ("as if" I "had a pair"). It was a bit jarring to be shocked out of my reverie with those words. But I responded well enough that he asked me to grab our raft as it made its way to me. I muscled it to the side and lit a necessary cigarette. My mates were shuckin' and jivin' on dry land as I smoked. When they reached my spot I thought we'd be able to decompress a bit, but an unexpected occurrence arose. It turns out that the raft behind us had also capsized, and one of its inhabitants was unconscious in the water. Kayak-guy was in a panic and needed our help. We jumped in and piloted our hapless vessel directly to the middle of the deluge and plucked our target right out of the water.

We went from zero to hero in the space of about ten minutes. Safely back among the weeds, we were thanked profusely for our timely efficiency and performance. Likely we saved that particular flotilla a bucketload of liability dollars. They invited us to their clubhouse- a micro brewpub ostensibly owned by the operators of our earlier tour. I would make return visits to that drinking hole over the years, but I stayed out of the Lower Yough for awhile. We got banged up on the rock chutes instead. While I'm not anxious to have a repeat performance of that last adventure, I'm certain to seek out rivers throughout my life. There are many more tales I could tell, but they are downstream and for now I'll leave you here in the tall weeds.

Pittsburgh Art Events: 3/27-28/09.

2009-03-26T15:14:00.000-04:00

Years ago, when Pavement was still together playing vital music, frontman Stephen Malkmus used to wear a shirt that said, "Fuck Art. Let's Dance!". While I certainly understand the sentiment (and there are plenty of options to dance now that Spring is upon us), I'd rather not see y'all get zombified by the pollen clouds. Remember that there's nothing better to get you moving later in the night than looking at original art live in person. And there are some opportunities this weekend. Take advantage of them.

Friday

You could go downtown. Really, you could if you were of such a mind. No, it's not a crawl per se, but there are a couple of openings that seem like they might be worth checking out. With Potato/Tomato: The Cover Project, Future Tenant has organized a show around a potentially interesting concept- they've asked artists to riff on other creators' work. Those folks are always so adorably post-modern, and this presentation might just cause me to venture downtown early Friday evening (6-9PM). Or then again, it might not. If you do think you might be interested, check out their page here...

But perhaps you don't want to do too much driving. Maybe the idea of fighting the Friday Rush Hour snarl is too daunting to penetrate the Golden Triangle. If so, then I got sumptin' for ya. Go to the Zombo Galler y. It's your last chance to see Breitkreutz and Copeland in March- two up-and-comers worth keeping an eye on. Did you go to the opening? Was there too much going on that night (at 6-freakin' PM?!)? Don't just do a drive-by this time. Put your poison on hold and have a look at some paintings. There will be lots of time to go out later.

Saturday

This might just be some sort of freakin' typo... but is LUPEC (Ladies United for the Preservation of Exotic Cocktails) really hosting their Annual Women's History Month Closing Party at 7-ever lovin'-AM on Saturday morning? That's hardcore. I wonder what kind of strange rituals they will be perpetrating Friday night. Regardless of when it really happens, it's reported that they will be talking about cosmetics. That's even more appropriate at such an ungodly hour.

If you do get drunk that early in the morning, you might as well schlep your wares over to the Pittsburgh Center for the Arts' Simmons Hall for the New Member Screening of the Pittsburgh Society of Artists. Bring three gallery-ready pieces and $35. Meet some ah-tists. Buck the trends.

As far as the night is concerned, I didn't find any gallery openings on Saturday. Of course there's the possibility that some swell space somewhere is having their special people over for drinks and show-and-tell, but I'm not privy to such rarefied society. So I'm considering taking my sass over to Pittsburgh Filmmakers for the Black Maria Film Festival (7:30PM- $7). For years I've made it a habit not to see films in theaters, and I've rarely challenged that resolve. But with this event there should be lots of breaks, which are essential to my viewing pleasure. I don't know what you'll see if you go, but the press release explains:

"Since 1981, the annual Black Maria Film & Video Festival, an international juried competition & award tour, has been fulfilling its mission to advocate, exhibit and reward cutting edge works from independent film and videomakers. The festival is known for its national public exhibition program, which features a variety of bold contemporary works drawn from the annual collection of 50 award winning films & videos."

Then again, maybe your tastes run more toward the lowbrow. In that case, I don't think you can afford to miss Tromatic Movie Night at the Obey House (1337 Steuben St.). That's in Crafton Heights. Where the f'n hell is Crafton Heights? It just might be real cannibals and toxic freaks that you encounter out that way. Sound like an adventure? It's $5, it starts at 6PM, and it features "Magic Hat Beer Specials And Troma Vendor". Alrite then...

Dreamland.

2009-03-25T15:53:00.000-04:00

I'm still working my way through Kevin Baker's Dreamland. My life has been marked by intense distraction lately, and I have another book in the queue that I'm anxious to start reading. At the same time Spring has sprung early this year, and it's hard to keep my concentration on reading. There are numerous projects that I want to pursue, and there is simply not enough time in the day to get everything done. I know there are things around the house that need to be attended to as well. Yet periodically I am able to sustain some attention, and I make it through a few pages of Baker's historical fiction. I end up captivated- not because his story is written particularly well but because the past realities he describes beggar the imagination.

If you've been reading this blog for any significant length of time (or if you know me personally) you might be aware that I actually visited what's left of Coney Island a few years ago. My Dad booked a room in Sheepshead Bay and we went over to take photos. Obviously it was in a state of disrepair. I blogged about my reactions (just type "Coney Island" into the search box at the top left hand corner of the page and scroll down the results*) after the visit. A particular highlight was seeing the last extant non-traveling sideshow. Of course it was sans performers-by-birthright, but that's simply the nature of the the beast, given the nature of our society. It eats its freaks whole.

I appreciated the Coney Island Circus Sideshow even though I missed the authentic 10-in-1 format because we were there on a weekday. Those folks certainly have a genuine love and appreciation for the history of the medium. Still I knew that I was seeing a remnant of a shadow of the past. By the time the blow-off came around I was ready to step out on walkabout. The local public school district must rent space adjoining the boardwalk to park their vehicles, because there were hundreds of buses, but hardly any kids around. It seems difficult to believe that this is the best use of property bordering this historic destination- but there it is. I have pictures to prove it.

Try to imagine the wonders and glories that people once experienced at places like Luna Park and Dreamland. Baker would have it that this was the place that immigrants learned to be truly American. But if that's the case, then that nation is dead. Once people rode the Steeplechase, which was a mechanized amusement featuring carousel horses that raced each other along a track... and included dips. When you (and hopefully your honey) got off (ok... I know) you walked along a platform with a maniacal dwarf who would chase you around in front of a gallery of past riders, and try to spank you or poke you in the butt with a cattle prod. There were also air jets that would blow ladies' dresses up around their wastes. Can't do that sort of thing (in public) nowadays without risking a trip to the pokey.

And there were a host of other amazing attractions as well, the likes of which haven't existed in some time. Check out this article from the New York Times, May 15th, 1904. It aims to describe a list of delights that you might have had should you have been lucky enough to access that time and place. It's difficult to believe even though it's from a paper that was once quite reputable. There's so much in there that it's virtually overwhelming. But the thing that strikes me right in my third eye is the verification that there did indeed once exist an entire town built to house "little people". They lived and worked there in Brooklyn in their planned community, in front of the prying eyes of the "normals". This was truly a "Dreamland".

*Make a short digression to the post titled "The Strange Crime of Hazel McNally." I did, and was a bit taken aback, as I completely forgot ever having written about the case.

My Time With the Feds.

2009-03-24T15:55:00.000-04:00

Approximately nine years ago I found myself unhappy with my current career path, and without a definite plan for the future. I intended to go back to school for a professional certificate in the fall, but didn't really know what to do to keep myself busy until then. Throughout the preceding years I had worked in a number of marginally interesting jobs for small compensation, and I wanted to shake things up a bit. I went down to the employment center in Larryville (near the doughboy statue) and met with one of its staff. I grabbed a quick bite to eat at the hot dog shop across the way before I went in. Unfortunately I caught a touch of food poisoning which began to hit me as I was talking with the job counselor.

Still I was able to keep it together enough to entertain several possibilities. It just so happened that the 2000 US Census was in its enumeration phase. There was a representative of the Pittsburgh office administering entry tests to see who might be qualified to work for "Old Glory". I've always been a proficient test-taker, and I did well despite the violent pangs in my stomach. I was offered a low-level temporary position downtown. Every day I walked from home at 47th and Hatfield to the high rise that is now the Westin Convention Center. I did a variety of office-type jobs, and always volunteered to get out in the field for some variety. Tracking down addresses that had forwarded no response to the mailed surveys could sometimes be challenging.

One day several Garfield teens tried to jack my car while I was idling in front of their rowhomes, trying to find a specific house. I was taken aback as they tried to enter through both doors of my beat-up GEO metro. The situation was so absurd that all I could think to do was to flash the closest one my federal employment badge (featuring a big ol' American flag) and smirk at them. That calmed them down, and they hastily retreated to a porch. I asked after them as I finally delivered a follow-up survey several houses down. They had become remarkably docile and polite. And it made for a pretty fun story back at the office. My supervisors especially paid close attention and decided that I should sit for a management test.

My training in psychology prepared me well for the exam. I was told that I got the highest score in the entire region. All it amounted to for me was that I knew what they were looking for. I answered the questions to fit their profile. But the project was so far underway that they couldn't offer me a high position. Still, what they gave me was a vast improvement over enumeration and data entry. I was made the crew leader for all of Lawrenceville. That meant that it would be left solely up to me to take the population count of the area. I had 23 employees working for me, and I was responsible for training and managing them. I reached my personal quota of 100% of the inhabitants accounted for. It turns out that the area was growing!

The best thing about that job was that I could set my own hours and work wherever I wanted to. For awhile I just had people drop off their completed surveys at my house. Then I decided I needed to have a more professional presence, and so I talked one of the local businesses into letting me set up on their second floor. I ran the count from Nooner's bar, which was located on Penn Avenue near Main Street. It was technically in Bloomfield. It's ironic that years later I would be spending a lot of time in my former "office"*. New owners purchased the place and transformed it into a hip destination called the Brillobox. Eventually the Census was concluded and I moved on. But I'm glad to have had the chance to help build the numbers for my favorite city neighborhood. It's been good to me ever since.

* Which I've recently learned was actually the "woman's floor" of the bar.

Madeleine Peyroux, "Instead"

2009-03-23T15:11:00.000-04:00

This song got my attention this morning, and I thought I'd share it with you:

Madeleine Peyroux
"Instead"

When I Was No More Than a Child.

2009-03-19T14:08:00.006-04:00

Perhaps I'm a wee bit obsessive-compulsive. Or maybe it's more proper to say that at least one of my multiple personalities is. I think that is one of the great joys of keeping the parts of myself ambivalently integrated. I can indulge the little idiosyncrasies that are aching to find their expression. If I repress them, they are going to show their faces anyway. So I might as well allow them conscious revelation, so to speak. That way I don't get anxious about their appearance. They don't blindside me. But I'm getting off on a tangent, and I know that I have something specific to talk about today. For those of you looking for a point, I want to assure you that there is one. Just be patient, and happy that I enjoy a bit of symmetry in my structure.

Not too long ago, my good friend R. and I were hanging out and talking in a nonlinear fashion and he made an interesting offhand(?) comment pertaining to whatever the momentary subject was and it resonated in waves like the proverbial butterfly wings. He said that there really wasn't much difference between a training in art and one in psychology. I found that particularly insightful and specifically relevant to my life. When I was an undergraduate in college, I ended up being a psychology major around the time I was starting junior year. I had one of those epiphanies that seen to quite commonly occur in youth. I realized that I didn't know what the fuck I was going to do upon graduation.

You see, when I left my hometown and my family I came as far away as I dared... all the way across this great commonwealth. My parents had told me that I could attend any in-state school with public funding, and when I looked at the map... the University of Pittsburgh really stood out. So we planned a visit- my first to this fine city. It was one of those gray days that seems to shadow the region's reputation... especially among those that have never been here. I can't say I was particularly trained in the art of observance at the time, and this deficit marked my experience. I decided that I would never come to a place like that for college. It was industrial and Gothic, and I had no idea what that meant.

Months later I failed to get into the main campus of Penn State University. At the time I didn't realize it, but this was incredibly fortuitous. Because Pitt was the rival of that Sunday Blue Law school. I was westbound and running with the sun. In retrospect I mark that as one of the very first substantial crossroads of my life I ever arrived at. And I've been thankful for the path I chose. For a few years I couldn't shake the stink of the East, but one summer I discovered the magic of the 'Burgh, and merged into its rivers. Getting back to the main thread, I'm grateful that I didn't have a fuckin' clue that fateful junior year at Pitt. Because I added up all my credits to see what I would major in (I had been promised a four-year sponsorship), and Psychology won out.

I suppose that I could look back at that time and believe that my spirit and/or intuition was guiding me. When I was completing my fourth year (yes, I finished my B.S. right on time), I knew I had nowhere clear to go. And I stayed and entered graduate school for psychology in education (that was the only seemingly functional masters degree offered for my chosen content). It was there that I really began thinking about individual personalities. For quite some time I matched them with the characters I knew... always externalizing those templates. It's only now (over a decade later) that I'm beginning to truly understand that they were always part of my self. It's a refreshing awakening.

What Color is Your Parachute?

2009-03-18T16:12:00.002-04:00

Unlike many late thirty-somethings that might be ashamed to admit it, I'll proudly admit that I played Dungeons and Dragons as a kid. I liked it. It was fun. Sometimes I get tempted to ask my friend who still plays if they are short a player. The only reason I don't is because I have a lot on my plate. Otherwise I would. I mean it. I would like to say that I was a nerd when I started playing, but the sad truth is that I was too self-conscious to qualify for that category. However, my brother made the grade. He was older by sixteen months, and had a group of like-minded friends who he played with often. When I got old enough (around 10 or 11) they let me join in. I was a temperamental little-shit, and I'm surprised in retrospect that I was tolerated by them.

Well, those type of parties ended when I revealed my true alignment. One day we were playing at my brother's friend-DY's house. I was having a good time from what I remember, and I really enjoyed looking at DY's exotic fish tanks (I guess technically they were probably his father's tanks). They really had an incredible collection. Sure, they had quite a few fresh water aquariums. That's easy enough. Not much work required with them. But there were some bad-assed salt water tanks too, and those require dutiful maintenance. And I think that anyone who puts that kind of effort into their passion appreciate when someone else expresses a likewise interest. DY knew I was impressed.

I don't know exactly how it came up through the course of the day, but I think DY wanted to leave an additional impression on me. So he suggested that we take a break and go out and play in the backyard. He had this idea that he'd like us to kick a flaming tennis ball through the grass. He went out to the garage and showed us how we could douse the thing with gasoline and then he lit it on up. For awhile it was just a bit of mischievous (but harmless) fun. But I guess I needed more edge, because the final time it was directed at me I intentionally booted the thing into the 11-foot-hedge that bordered the back of the yard. You'd be surprised how fast that flame grew. As we watched, the tip of the flames started to lick the telephone wires.

Naturally DY was in a state of panic. He was actually fairly "with it" for a 13 or 14-year-old kid. As much as he hated to do it, he knew what had to be done. Perhaps there was a hose somewhere that could have been hooked up to an outside faucet, but there was also a corresponding sense of imminence as those bushes burned. DY showed what can only be described as an awful logic, and he ran into the house and came out with an aquarium. I never found out whether it was fresh water or not. He dumped it, fish and all, at the base of the flame. Unfortunately he knew that wouldn't be sufficient and he ended up making several return trips. I knew it must have been painful because he was crying in motion.

What did I do during this time? I only found out later from DY, during one of the very last times he ever spoke to me. Apparently I stood and stared in mesmerized stillness, watching the fire lick up the flora (and the fauna as well, after a bit). This in itself could have probably been easily explained. However, what I did next (I guess) was over the top. I started laughing... rather maniacally. What was funny about that scene? In retrospect I have no idea. Later, when DY let me know what he thought of me, I guess I must have been pretty sad. I was effectively excommunicated from hanging out with my brother's friends from then on. At that point I guess they realize that art and life are inseparable. Just like the characters I played, I was (and perhaps still am) 'chaotic neutral'.

Pog Mi Hone, Shilaeli Huggers.

2009-03-17T15:55:00.000-04:00

Woo-hoo... it's St. Patrick's Day, and I don't give a good goddamn. It's not like I have anything specifically against the Irish, whether or not they are flame-topped or raven-haired. I've known some fun ones, and had an evening or two tippling with the leprechauns. So sure... why not? Erin-freakin'-go-braugh. If you need an easy excuse to get pissed, then have at it. Just don't forget to eat your taters before you do. I don't want to be plagued by the smell of vomit wherever you choose to do your reveling. And keep your little fists by your side, because when I go out I like to kick back and relax. I'm not looking to get inadvertently spat upon, or wet down by the whiskey-soaked sweat flying off of your reddened face.

But while we are on the subject of this all-important day, why don't you help me figure out why I should care about your tribal ceremonies? Why don't you explain why people here in the 'Burgh act as if it is some type of national holiday? You're the only white clan that tries to make a big deal of your special day. Inevitably some mick is going to ask me why I'm not wearing green, as if I've committed some type of Lenten slur. When I respond that I'm not Irish, I almost unfailingly hear the retort- "No, you know that everyone is Irish today". What gives? Is it like being birthed from a Hebrew pussy? Do I not have a choice in my affiliations? Do I have to do a riverdance once a year during March?

Here in Pittsburgh we don't get a hard-on for Black History Month, or Columbus, or even Fasnacht Day (look it the hell up, ignoramus). Yet we have to close downtown on a perfectly nice Saturday just to let drunks parade through the streets. And as if that wasn't enough, our favorite bars are jam-packed with idiots and airheads with ridiculous hats for at least twenty minutes during the evening, as they make their way through their insane bar-crawls. Can't we simply merge this nonsense with some Steeler Sunday? That way we don't have to waste a prime time night on a bunch of irritatingly exuberant weekend warriors. Actually, there are plenty of pubs where they like this sort of thing- drink your crappy green beer and cheap blended bracken water elsewhere.

Alas, maybe I am being a bit unfair. After all they aren't a universally bad-looking bunch. One-in-ten might actually serve as a crude sort of eye candy. And they've certainly had a big impact on the region. David Lawrence, Frank J. Gallagher, Tom Murphy, Bob O'Connor, Dan Rooney (Obama's Ambassador to Ireland, fer Christ's-sake!), Luke Ravenstahl- the list of prominent Irish local politicos is seemingly never ending. Hell, the Scots-Irish made Appalachia what it is today, in all it's four-leafed clover glory. Of course that becomes a dubious honor when one has a close look at the back roads of West Virginia and Kentucky... but what the hell. Let your freak flag fly high today.

Never mind that they've already despoiled downtown (in what has been reported as the nation's second-largest annual celebration of the homeland). Most of the drunk drivers have already been released from county by now. But I imagine they still have something left in their tank. They've gotten their fortification through their fried fish sandwiches, deviled crabs, and hardboiled eggs. Tonight you are sure to hear, "let's do a freakin' Car Bomb!!!" That's a cry that is rather appropriately uttered by this class of folk, especially those from the Northern part of the island across the sea. The rock-bottom truth is that I like all of you fine. And at least the stench of garlic is absent until St. Joseph's Day.

Who Doesn't Love Shopping?!

2009-03-16T16:58:00.001-04:00

I went to the mall yesterday- "The Mills" to be exact. M. wanted to pick up a few things that she couldn't get around town, and I figured I'd give her a ride out that way. She still doesn't relish driving on route 28, and I can understand why. We found the "right" entrance after driving more than 1/2 way around the megacomplex. This one-stop consumer architecture is arguably the least lovely design template that I've ever experienced. It's phenomenally bleak, and whenever I find myself going (and it's NEVER on my initiative), I always feel like I'm visiting an alien planet. I had an hour and forty minutes to spend once we got there, and for the first ten it was interesting from a sociological standpoint. Then I started sweating as if I was in a Baptist church.

There is so much wrong about the entire phenomenon that it's difficult to find the proper place to start a list. The name of this particular mall is insultingly ironic. Nothing you can buy at any of the stores was made in the region. As far as I know there were never any mills where this monstrosity is located. There's no industry involved. It's Henry Miller's Air Conditioned Nightmare run amok sixty years after the publication of that literary travelogue. No matter how the planners try to structure the experience, it can never have anything to do with community. At "The Mills" they break down the retail into "neighborhoods", as if the polished floors were modeled after the city itself. But they even fuck that up- the numbers didn't seem to me to go in order... or perhaps I had already started hallucinated by the time I began to pay attention.

All I really wanted was a belt. My pants have all developed an inconvenient propensity to fall off my hips when I walk, which is problematic in most of my routine circumstances. After 45 minutes I found somewhere to make the purchase. Then I just walked around the uni-level square that I guess is meant to evoke an attitude of stupor-induced impulsive desire. I made a point to find the stores that best represent the state of our society. My pick is Flag World, where you can buy several different versions of "Old Glory". It's a bit shocking that it's still in business seven-and-a-half years after 9-11. I don't know if they are intentionally manufactured to attain material obsolescence every year or two, but it would seem that anyone in the market for a flag has already made the plunge.

I decided I wanted to indulge in nostalgia, and searched for an Orange Julius. Instead I settled for a "fruit smoothie" that had very little in it other than sugar and dairy substitute. I suppose that's not much different from my original target, but it wasn't very Juli-icious. I should have just bought Starbucks. As if to underscore my essential feeling of dislocation, I couldn't even find a drug store to buy cigarettes. I'm usually prepared, but I didn't anticipate going to the mall this afternoon. I thought I might stop at the fancy smoke shop to buy some Gauloises, but the lady at the counter (who spoke with a European accent, for fuck's sake) didn't even know what I was talking about. And I wasn't going to pay $6.50 for Camels.

The toy store was kind of cool. I'll admit that. I found a box of oil crayons for about $5. There was also a men's clothing store that had a tempting purple velvet smoking jacket at a huge markdown, but I resisted my urge to buy indiscriminately. I can only hope I don't have dreams about it that force me to come back later on this week. Still the vast majority of product at The Mills is stuff that I can't ever imagine wanting. Maybe I'll start making bank and shop at the Amish furniture store (inconveniently closed on Sundays). Or perhaps I'll get brain damage in an accident and lose my aesthetic sense, and start coveting some Thomas Kinkade paintings. Who knows? I could even develop a taste for plastic fruit smoothies. I might even feel more American.

Junot Diaz, "The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao" (2007).

2009-03-13T15:36:00.000-04:00

Once or twice a year a new author bounds upon the popular literature scene, and compels the attention of the rapidly shrinking American readership. Often the author gets a boost from Oprah Winfrey, and maximizes the profitability of the release. Sometimes a book gets its acclaim by winning a prestigious award, although this isn't as sure a means into the nation's consciousness as the aforementioned coronation via day-time talk show queen. I would hazard a guess that the proportion of society that can actually name the year's Pulitzer Prize* and National Book Award winners is less than one half a percent. I make a point of reading a lot of fiction, and (to be honest with you), I can't do it.

Generally books come into my hands through one of two means- either someone I know personally makes a recommendation and/or loan, or I read about it on Amazon. Rarely do I scour the shelves and discover stuff I have not heard about previously. There's only so much time in my day to devote to reading nowadays, and I want as close to a sure thing as possible. My habits are increasingly self-directed, and that's why it's a real pleasure when I end up liking a friend's suggested title. That's the case with Junot Diaz's The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Even though I had seen that several of my newer favorite authors liked Diaz's writing, it might have been a long time before I actually sat down to read it.

Ultimately I'm glad I did. Normally I tend to resist writers who are transplanted Americans. I don't know why this should be so, and I'm certainly not proud of it. It's a very provincial attitude. I guess I'd just typically assume that I wouldn't get into a story unless I have a degree of cultural identification with the author. In the case of the Dominican-born Diaz, this would have been a real loss. Not only does the main character (Oscar De Leon) hail from Paterson, NJ (a mere hour-and-a-half from my own hometown) , but he's also heavily informed by the type of comic books and culture that I digested growing up. The kid may be black, nerdy, fat, and an ugly virgin... yet somehow he strikes certain chords of recognition.

Oscar is more than just a late-bloomer. He's truly at risk of never blooming at all. Aside from his mother, sister, and grandmother, he doesn't have a lot of admirers. He spends his time writing science fiction and fiddling around with role playing games. That doesn't mean he doesn't have the conventional needs of a red-blooded American (let alone Dominican) male. He just doesn't have any sort of success with the ladies. In this respect, his misfortune mirrors that of his broader family. While his clan doesn't share his clumsiness with the opposite sex (in fact they are all players), they do seem cursed to eat shit. Somehow they manage to run afoul of a motley assortment of genuinely bad actors.

Diaz is not merely concerned with telling Oscar's tale, but rather with sharing an informal history of his native country, and the brutal regime of the dictator Rafael Trujillo. I've heard about the type of atrocities dictators of banana republics can visit upon their people, but this guy was extreme. I'm assuming that the historical context that Diaz provides throughout his novel is accurate, and that the events occurred as he portrays them. If nothing else, reading The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao should make the reader grateful for his/her life. The entire DeLeon family endures such misery from an apparent fukú (curse) that appears to be supernaturally merciless. Still it makes for some rip-roaring reading.

* Diaz won the coveted prize in 2008.

Pittsburgh Art Events: 3/13-14/09.

2009-03-12T15:08:00.001-04:00

Tomorrow is Friday the 13th... again. 2009 is an extraordinarily rare year in that there are actually two of these "unlucky" days in subsequent months. For some that is reason enough to revisit the rather tepid series of horror movies that takes for its title the delineating characteristics that mark it on the calendar. Others will cast a glance or two over their shoulders, on the look-out for the bad luck that is supposed to accompany the date. There are even some (I am quite sure) that will go through their day as if it were any other. After all, there are folks who make every effort to approach life in a manner circumscribed by logic and rationality. But what fun is that? What fun is a world without magic?

Friday

It's ironic that (on such a foreboding day) that we should be so fortunate as to have the opportunity to check out the new work of Ben Kehoe. If I was forced to identify my favorite couple of painters around town, Ben would certainly headline my list. I'm not just whistlin' Dixie either... if you paid a visit to my house, you'd see my appreciation for Ben on my walls. There are very few artists (other than myself) who are better represented in my art collection. And I'm going to make it a point to get to the Beleza Community Coffeehouse on the North Side (1501 Buena Vista) early to see what Ben makes available from his new series. The actual reception for Watching and Wary runs from 6-8PM.

For years Kehoe has painted witty figurative images featuring medieval knights engaging in all manner of scallywag behavior. Some time ago he decided to shake things up and abandon that theme. Since the shift, I've only seen a few examples of his new direction. I'm anxious to see what he's come up with. If you can't make it, be sure to check out his website.

Meanwhile, Zombo Gallery (4900 Hatfield St, Lawrenceville) is featuring a doubleheader by Christian Breitkreutz and Ron Copeland. I've seen the work of the former at Modern Formations during a previous Unblurred. His stuff was reminiscent of the Kehoe brothers, and priced reasonably to sell. His latest group of paintings (Don't Let Me Die) apparently reflects his "struggles with death and dying", but no doubt there will be a substantial element of countervailing humor to offset the darkness. As far as I know, Copeland is relatively new to the local scene. Zombo's description of Another Broken Thumb makes the artist sound like he's obsessed with detritus. That sounds right up Michael's alley.

Saturday

It seems like forever since Moxie Dada (1416 Arch Street) hosted an opening reception. Well friends, the time has come once again. It's a bit of a shame that it's not scheduled for Friday, because otherwise only one trip to the North Side would be necessary this weekend. Anyway, Unveiled features virtually the full roster of the gallery's artists (including Mark Traughber, Randie Snow, Robert Huckestein, Jason Shorr, etc.) . Christine promises a mix of new and previously shown work. Make sure to stop by between 6 and 8PM.

Note: Sunday's Obscure Movie Night selection at the Double Wide Grill (2339 E Carson St.) is "Bad Boys", starring the foremost actor of his generation- Sean Penn! Come see how he distinguished himself as a young lion... it starts at 9:30PM.

Politics as Usual in an Exceptional Time.

2009-03-11T15:16:00.000-04:00

I've been taking a bit of a break from politics these last couple of months. I realize that it isn't entirely appropriate to pull away during the beginning of a new president's tenure... especially considering how ardent a supporter I was of the pre-executive Barack Obama. It's not fair for me to shine the light of analysis on the preceding administration, and then give this one a free pass. Yet at the same time, I spent so much energy following the 2008 presidential election that I felt entitled to have a rest. Truth be told, my level of involvement in the political scene was unsustainable. There was just no way for me to devote the hours it took for me to inform myself, while at the same time pursue my other interests and obligations.

Still it's not as if I have been living in a bubble. I realize that there has been a rash of government activity aimed at confronting our tenuous economic position. I took a look at the stimulus package, and considered the amount of extraneous spending included in the final bill. I try to keep up with the planning for the disbursement of the second half of the TARP funds. I even tune in for the latest reporting on the stock market. There is little to recommend a belief that we are "righting the ship". Obviously extreme measures have not yet been sufficient, and I think that Congress and the Obama Administration will continue to search for bold steps to jar the American economy out of its current malaise.

It's been slightly entertaining to see just how quickly Obama's hope of a post-partisan era of politics has been revealed as just so much wishful thinking. Michael Steele, the prospective new head of the opposition party, has blatantly labeled bipartisanship "a fiction". Granted the new GOP Chairman has been under great fire lately. I suppose this was inevitable given the state of the Republican leadership in the wake of their great losses. Steele is tasked with rebuilding a party that lays in ruins at the feet of eight years of failure. And he's being asked to deal with a constituency that is notoriously recalcitrant and resistant to change. That's quite a bit to overcome for someone who has never won a major election during his career.

Chairman Steel also has to contend with one of the loudest windbags since Joseph McCarthy. Hack radio host Rush Limbaugh continues to consolidate his power over the "conservative movement", in the midst of total breakdown. Limbaugh strikes me as nothing more than a very fat vulture, greedily licking his lips at the vulnerability of the dying Republicans scattered around Washington. He's obviously aware that this his last best opportunity to be the voice of the GOP. The rank-and-file has been left with nothing but platitudes and defeat. It's been 15 years since the last recapitulation of moral majority values, and the playbook that was drawn under the watchful eye of Newt Gingrich has proved ineffective and empty.

Still it's difficult to understand what productive outcome Limbaugh hopes to achieve with his incendiary stream-of consciousness, especially since it can be reduced to a mercenary desire to see Obama and Co. fail in their attempts to help the nation regain its bearings. As a national figure, he is continuing to erode his own popularity. No doubt his invective is carefully calculated. He realizes that he is increasingly irrelevant, and that his last best chance to be a player is to distinguish himself as the enemy of the White House. I think he truly believes that he can elevate himself by attacking the Commander-in-Chief. The trouble is that he is setting a dangerous precedent that his less deliberate followers are likely to emulate. And that can't be good for the US.

William Gay, "I Hate to See That Evening Sun Go Down" (2002).

2009-03-10T15:50:00.000-04:00

I wonder. How many times will I have to write a review of a William Gay book before everyone that reads this blog will run out and get one for themselves? This is an essential question because there is a particular imminence to my recommendation. Gay is still alive. How many times have you thought to yourself that you'd like to find a classic American author while he/she is still alive? You have that chance right now. Get in your car (or on your bike) and go to whatever local book store has the largest selection of lamentably obscure fiction. Now buy anything they have by William Gay. He is a living master. And he's about 66 years old. Go give him some of your hard-earned cash while he is still alive, because he won't last forever.

As for me, I'll patiently await the release of his next novel- The Lost Country. I have no other choice, since I've read virtually everything else that Gay has published in book form. Likely there is a treasure trove of unedited work lying somewhere that has never seen the light of day. That stuff can trickle out posthumously. For now I just want Gay to be as prolific as possible. I tried to save something for a rainy day, but I just couldn't. I had to read it sooner rather than later. Today I've finished I Hate to See That Evening Sun Go Down, an amazingly well-crafted collection of stories that I'm certain will linger in my subconsciousness for a long time. It is constructed with a detailed hand that manages to wend its way into the substrata of my imagination.

In fact Gay writes with such a deft touch that I'm just a little bit scared when I read his stuff. I'm afraid that the events and themes that he writes about will slip off the page and began to manifest themselves in my life. That's the type of power and force that I attribute to the experience of reading his words. He manages to meticulously capture a sense of foreboding inevitability that is at once shocking and believable. There have been numerous times when I was reading his tales when I stopped short in the middle of a paragraph, at once divining what was to happen to one of Gay's characters. It's a heartrending experience, but there is nothing to be done but continue with the thread.

This specific collection underscores one of Gay's repeating obsessions- the idea that there are certain doors that, once opened and traveled through, cease to function as portals forever after. There are actions that entail such severe consequences that they permanently alter a life's trajectory. These form a "before" and "after" that define personal eras. As we watch a protagonist drift toward a certain decision, we become aware of the vicissitudes of fate. These people may know less than the reader, but at a cellular level they seem to realize exactly what they are heading for. In the case of Gay's tales, these destinations are always transformational, and seldom for the better.

Whether it's a successfully married man of thirty years gunning down his wife's annoying lapdog or a straying spouse finally succumbing to the worst sort of temptation, we know that Gay's characters will pay a steep price for their lapses andindiscretions. I can only speculate as to the real-life lessons that William Gay has accumulated. His hardened features seem to betray a series of disappointments and tragedies that have become his inescapable companions. Maybe we are better off with his fictions. They serve, as often as not, as cautionary tales. Perhaps we will subsequently go off and make the same mistakes we've seen documented in his books, but at least we will have a better facility for imagining the worst case scenarios.

Revisiting Bukowski (again).

2009-03-09T15:41:00.000-04:00

Several years ago I wrote a post reviewing a documentary called Born Into This, which portrayed the life and times of Charles Bukowski. It was a movie that stuck with me, as I have a lot of interest in the author's work. I've said it before, but it bears repeating- Bukowski inspired me to try writing. He also made me appreciate poetry for the first time in my life. When I first got turned on to his books, I devoured any of his titles that I could find. And it was difficult to find them. There was something about the early '90s that made his words live especially vividly. Perhaps it was the growing rejection of the materialistic 80's. There was so much fakery and emptiness in that decade that made any form of authenticity seem fresh.

It takes a special form of genius to make an existence of degradation sparkle. Many of us in the "X-Generation" were taken with the seedy undercurrents of the street that Bukowski represented. In retrospect I feel that I received a precious gift by having come of age during the popular resurgence of "Hank Chinaski". I was able to enter almost complete dissolution without sacrificing the social ties that such a lifestyle usually precludes. It is true that I engaged in it all in a self-conscious way. I managed to avoid the kind of mistakes that allow no full recovery. Unlike many of the people I knew during that time, I emerged relatively unscathed. Yet I realize that "fate's caprice" had much to do with it. I can't accept all of the credit.

Last night I watched Born Into This once again. I've been showing selections from my DVD collection at a local bar every Sunday night. I was pleased to get the chance to share the story of a Twentieth Century icon with anyone who wanted to see it. Oddly, a couple of the folks who watched it with me are still unfamiliar with Bukowski's work. This fact seems a bit surreal to me given the role the great scribe has played in my life. How is it possible that I have old friends who I haven't shared this work with? These are people who are firmly placed in my demographic. How have they not found Bukowski on their own? I know we are in the midst of an illiterate era, but it seems odd that such an accessible writer would be ignored.

It could be that Charles Bukowski is becoming increasingly irrelevant with time, but I suspect that this is only a passing phase from which society will eventually awake. The hardscrabble times in front of us could spark the rediscovery of his genius. He knew the most visceral and simplest of pleasures. He celebrated them above all else. He was constantly on the lookout for phonies and poseurs. He could sniff them out as soon as they approached him, and he wasn't too shy to let them know their true quality. I could only hope to emulate his example. Certainly I would employ a greater degree of diplomacy. After all, I never took the kind of beatings that he did growing up. But I took my share of blows from the bitches of "fate".

I'm sure that Charles Bukowski would be turned off by some of the artifice I employ. He was, after all, an iconoclast. He seemed to have an unwavering conviction that he was right, and most others were wrong. I'm much more of a relativist than he was. My rejection of metaphor is not complete like his was. And in some strange way, I feel that Bukowski was a bit of a romantic at heart. He held tightly to his ideals, and was often uncompromising in a way that I can scarcely imagine being. Yet he could turn a phrase unlike anyone I have ever read. He could cut to the marrow of a special kind of squalid existence, and make even the idea of loneliness a bit appealing. In that respect he was a magician.

Thinking with my stomach.

2009-03-06T18:09:00.000-05:00

This has been an almost excruciatingly long week, despite the fact that I did an awful lot of sleeping. My consciousness was especially tuned in to bodily function, in a way that it seldom is in this modern age. I guess to some degree I am more prepared at my age to pay attention to my physicality. Our bodies are, in a way, akin to the proverbial "canary in a coal mine". They often signal (or reflect) problems in our lives that we may not be actively addressing. Objectively I knew that I would become more aware of my physical health as I aged. This is certainly no shocking revelation. Anyone who has ever had living grandparents has probably been exposed to this reality. Things fall apart over time.

Still it is a bit astonishing just how quickly we gain information about our bodies as we age. I've done a lot of thinking recently about the idea of the "Achilles' Heel", or tragic flaw theory of mortality. Somewhere I heard that the seeds of our own destruction are already within us, even when we are feeling perfectly fine. That concept has poetic resonance. Perhaps we are all born with a number of potentially devastating genetic defects, and the environment selects the one that will kill us. Or maybe we do the choosing ourselves. I don't really care whether or not the trigger is external or not. There's just something useful about contemplating what our own burden might be.

I would expect that if you give it some honest and sincere thought, you could probably identify the part of your body where your life's stresses manifest themselves most acutely. Some people get migraine headaches, and no matter what they do they can't seem to alleviate them. They just have to suffer through. Others find their hearts racing, and quickly learn that they need to control their emotions, lest their pacemakers explode. There are folks that seem to get all twisted up when things go poorly. Their muscles get kinked and knotted. For each of the body's biosystems, there is no doubt a corresponding affliction which can let the careful observer know what emotional state the individual is experiencing.

It was obvious to me quite early in life that my own stress seems to accumulate in my stomach and digestive tract. If I am feeling a lot of pressures, or even "existential angst", I soon experience difficulties in digesting my food properly. The specific symptoms that pop up are a bit too viscerally disgusting to describe in detail, so I'll let your imagination be your guide. Perhaps if you are like me, and you often have similar problems, then you know the scope of the possibilities. If not, then you probably get a "stomachache" now and again, and leave it at that. The details aren't for you. Like Eskimos and their snow, some of us need an expanded language to express the nuances of these phenomena.

To have my digestive capabilities completely go haywire this past week was alarming. In a way that wouldn't be necessary if I got stress headaches, I began to think about how my lifestyle specifically affects my processing of food. I also thought a lot about the things I pick to put into my mouth without much thought. All of this may sound sort of pseudo-mystical to those of a purely scientific bent. But if you are able to, allow yourself some time to contemplate what your area of most profound vulnerability might be. Remember that there is always something that ultimately kills you. Whether or not you want to monitor that ongoing process is up to you. As for me, I can feel it in my gut.

Pittsburgh Art Happenings: 3/6-7/09.

2009-03-05T07:51:00.002-05:00

Last week I wrote a post detailing a couple of events that were happening last weekend. I highlighted the anniversary party of Encyclopedia Destructica that was held at the Brillo Box. I did end up attending, but it was so crowded that my friend and I decided not to stay for the reading. Both of us simply bought a book instead. I would assume that there are still some copies of the second issue of the Coatlicue series available for purchase, and I recommend that you locate and pick one up. I started reading mine yesterday and have already found enough inside to justify the $10 expense. Unfortunately I never posted the draft promoting that show, so it remained unread and unseen by anybody but me. Ultimately I simply deleted it altogether.

This week I don't intend to make the same mistake. So without further ado, here are some things worth checking out this weekend.

Friday

For the second month in a row, I'm going to be hitting First Friday in Shadyside. Jenn Wertz and Mark Gualtieri are showing at the Mendelson Gallery (5874 Ellsworth Avenue ) under the title "Rubbing Sticks Together". It's a provocative title for a show, and it should be interesting to see what sparks they generate. Wertz is better known for her participation in the band Rusted Root, and Gualtieri has worked on movie sets and run a couple of galleries. While I have never seen any of the latter's work, I did get a sneak preview of Wertz's mixed media creations, and they are worth making the trip (6-9PM).

After I make my exit from Swellsville, I'll head over to the Penn Avenue Corridor for Unblurred. There's a group show of print artists (INKY PAPER: PRINTS FROM THE SNOWBELT) at Most Wanted Fine Art ( 5015 PENN AVE). Garfield Artworks (4931 PENN AVE) is rolling out their own collection of creators, ranging from painting to photography. And at Imagebox (4933 PENN AVE) there appears to be an exhibition of local historical images from Jacob Koestler.

But the highlight on Penn Avenue Friday night looks like it will be LOOKING FOR SEEDS: TINYART PART 2 at Modern Formations (4919 PENN AVE). If nothing else, the group exhibit there features the most names that I recognize- Katherine Young, Carolyn Kelly, David Bernabo, Jessica Fenlon and Beano among them. I'll likely stay awhile.

Also of Interest:

"Size Does Matter": Pittsburgh Society of Artists small works show @ The Framery (4735 Butler St., Lawrenceville), 6PM.

"Black/White": Multimedia exhibit featuring 21 artists @ Gallerie Chiz (5831 Ellsworth Ave, Shadyside), 6-9PM.

"Code Words": AAP artist and board member Lori Hepner @ Melwood Filmmakers (477 Melwood Ave, Oakland), 6-9PM.

Saturday

If you manage to avoid an art hangover on Saturday afternoon, take the time (11am - 5pm) to stop by the Luke & Eloy Gallery (5169 Butler Street) in Lawrenceville. My friend Susan Constance is participating in a group show called Double Vision, which purports to celebrate "13 Artists who express themselves in differing art and craft forms". I had a chance to stop by about a month ago and meet Gallery Director Brigitte Martin. We had an amiable conversation, and I'll be looking forward to seeing how her own instincts inform the 'Burgh arts scene.

I keep meaning to check out the Morning Glory Coffeehouse over in Morningside (1806 Chislett Street). This Saturday may be a good time to do it. They are having an opening reception (7PM) for the work of Maria Mangano. I couldn't find any of her images online during a three-minute Google search, but I have learned that she is a CMU grad, and is exhibiting "Intaglio Prints". Plus DJ Thermos is providing music for the event...

Sunday

"Retrospect: A Celebration of Color and Light": Mary Ann Gorka @ Panza Gallery (115 Sedgwick Street, Millvale), 2-5PM.

Affairs of the stomach.

2009-03-04T14:43:00.003-05:00

Today I took the opportunity to research the word "norovirus". I had plenty of time to learn about this viral affliction because I'm suffering from the very symptoms the classification describes. In fact I've had multiple bouts of suffering in the last six months that fall neatly under this category. This is, I believe, a function of Baby E. being in daycare. I recently described his "home-away-from-home" as a Petri Dish, and I feel it was an apt way to explain its effects- both on my son and my entire family. I can only hope that my body's immune system will develop some lasting resistances to the contagions that cause the norovirus. I've certainly had plenty of exposure to them.

Anyway, I also had a chance to read the paper for the first time in months. I generally don't make any effort to look at the local dailies, but cabin fever will do wonders for one's curiosity about the external world. So I quickly scanned the front page "news" items about the horrid state of the economy, and the nation's current prognosis. None of that was especially novel or insightful, and I found myself digging deeper and engaging page two. Here I discovered a particularly compelling story that seemed somehow appropriate to my current condition. I can't say I've ever experienced anything exactly like I read there, but still I can't help feeling like its somehow reflective of what's been happening in my stomach.

Apparently the actual event that precipitated the news coverage happened last August. It only reached our local outlets once again because of a "not guilty" plea registered in court by the perpetrator of a singularly heinous act. Vincent Li has apparently retracted his previous admission, which involved taking responsibility for the beheading and cannibalization of a 22-year old carnival worker on a Greyhound bus heading to Winnipeg, Manitoba. According to Li's account, God commanded him to kill Tim McClean because the victim was a "force of evil", who would have come back to life had he not been dissected. The defense psychiatrist in the case is arguing that Li is a schizophrenic who was not "criminally responsible" for his actions.

The tale is a particularly grisly one. According to the accounts of fellow passengers, Li began stabbing McClean in what appeared to be a random fashion, as the victim was snoozing and listening to headphones. The bus pulled over and all the non-combatants began hastily exiting the bus. At that point McClean tried to escape through a window and Li attempted to escape through the front, only to be stopped when the closing door caught his arm. Reportedly enraged by being trapped, Li extricated himself and proceeded to decapitate McClean, before finally depositing the head in plain view on the driver's seat for the edification of the witnesses outside the bus.

When police finally arrived at the scene and arrested Li, they discovered a plastic bag containing body parts in his pocket. Upon examination of the grisly scene, investigators were unable to locate McClean's eyes and approximately one-third of his heart, and thus came to the conclusion that Li had employed cannibalism as a means of disposal. This little touch introduces a particularly disquieting element into the event. I'm not suggesting that there aren't a lot of other disturbing things about this tragedy, but the fact that this guy was able to engage in his abhorrent feast while a little crowd of onlookers gazed on haplessly... that frankly astounds me. I can't presume to speculate on the quality of that experience, but I can say that reading about it is a bit sickening.

A Visit to the Hospital.

2009-03-02T19:27:00.000-05:00

As much of southwestern Pennsylvania is breathing a sigh of relief after being bypassed by the worst winter storm of the year, I am hoping that a different force of nature will soon depart from my family's life. Yet again Baby E. is sick, and this time he has landed in Children's Hospital for an extended (if indeterminate) stay. Yesterday morning I tried to decipher the meaning of a familiar but misplaced buzzing sound coming from the stand alongside my bed. It took me a bit to figure out that it was my cell phone on "manner mode". I quickly discovered the reason for its intrusion- M. was trying to get a hold of me, and calling repeatedly. When I finally answered I learned that she was at the hospital ER with E.

I don't know about you, but I'm not entirely rational first thing in the morning. It's always taken me awhile to reconcile to the fact that it's time to re-enter my waking life. M. was irritated that I hadn't picked up her call the first few times she had called, and I interpreted her tone as panicked. I don't quite remember what she had to say, but I knew that my son was in trouble and that I was needed somehow to assist. And I honed in on the phrase "104 degree temperature" that apparently described E.'s current condition. He had been ill for a few days previously, but had demonstrated a marked improvement through Saturday, so this was entirely unexpected. I wasn't remotely prepared for it.

When I was a freshman in college, I once ran a temperature that exceeded 104 degrees Fahrenheit. It was shortly after my first kiss, and seemed a poetic introduction to the worldly ways of adult passions. I was laid up pretty helplessly, and unable (or unwilling) to seek proper medical attention. When it finally felt like my fever broke, I made my way to the university hospital for a check-up. I had been unable to eat for six days, and couldn't even keep water down for half of that period. I was surprised to learn that I was at 104 degrees. My parents were called, and they were told to leave their house immediately in the middle of the night. They drove 300 miles to Pittsburgh. Apparently it was touch-and-go for some time.

In retrospect I suppose I suffered some sort of damage due to that fever. Strange shifts in my brain became evident. My ability to understand complex mathematical concepts seemed to degrade rather abruptly, but my verbal skills improved markedly in a manner that might be described as "odd". The aftermath of the affliction had major effects on my life. I didn't return to school until the next year. For about a month after my sickness I looked like a concentration camp victim. I had lost 25 pounds in a week. I had to piss more frequently. It was a strange time, and I'm sure it left an impression on my parents as well. I can only imagine the concern they had for my well-being. I stayed with my grandparents for a week after they picked me up.

Now I have had a glimpse of what it's like to worry about the health of my child. When I got to the hospital (after gathering the things that M. needed for an overnight stay), I lost my composure for the second time in the space of a couple of hours. When I finally located E.'s room, and walked through the door, I saw my son- he appeared clammy and had tubes running to multiple parts of his body. He was sitting in M.'s lap, and he looked up at me with a weak smile and extended a hand wrapped in gauze to hold an IV in place. As I crouched down to greet him my eyes teared up and I was struck speechless. There aren't sufficient words to describe how I felt at that moment.

The only thing we have to fear...

2009-02-27T19:29:00.003-05:00

I know that many of you are afraid of what's coming. You think things are going to get bad around here. Maybe a bit of perspective can help:

Do You Realize?

Don't get it in my eye...

2009-02-25T17:05:00.000-05:00

Today is "Ash Wednesday", the observation day for a ritual that has always (quite frankly) freaked me out. It's easy to wonder why folks would want to walk around with the residue of ashes on their foreheads, especially when it is applied to make the sign of a long-past sacrifice. That in itself speaks to the mystery of our modern condition. So many people venerate a symbol of capital punishment. But this wasn't just any execution, was it? This brand represents the material death of a figure that many people now consider their savior. This is a puzzle that you can unravel to expose a chain of associations that stretches to infinity. Still, I think it's important to take a step back and think about it all pragmatically.

This day kicks off Lent, a period of abstinence that ends on Easter, which brings about the symbolic return of the aforementioned savior. This resurrection (if you will) marks the official formation of "the Church". But that's getting ahead of ourselves. The essential question is, "Why celebrate the death on Earth of a righteous man, condemned for others' sins, and made to suffer agonies that are ironically referred to as 'The Passion'?" It kind of sets a precedent for a society built upon obliteration. The historical Jesus is said to have performed many miracles before meeting his end at the age of 33 (?)... imagine what he might have done if he had lived to a ripe old age.

If The Christ could turn water into wine by his early 30's, think about the wondrous tricks he could have performed in "middle age". Perhaps he could have written his own books instead of having his followers (many of whom had never even met him) do it for him. We can only imagine that Word made flesh. Yet that wouldn't have suited the narrative. His public demise was necessary as an instrument of control for all of those who lived in his midst. People needed to learn to atone for their indulgences. What would you have done with a man who made folks aware that they were already part of "God"? That's way too empowering for the flock- better a dead shepherd than a liberator, right?

Now we are told that a "Day of Reckoning" is at hand. We will all have our turn to be judged. However, we won't be evaluated based upon our Earthly deeds. "Our Father" will determine our fealty to the message. Did Jesus die for you? Was his agony on that cross necessary to cleanse you of your "sin" (never mind if it is sufficient, because that's an entirely different subject)? Can you get a pass that easily? Today you will see lots of people who believe that they can. Their foreheads will be marked quite conspicuously. They'll make a concerted effort not to eat meat on Fridays, or they'll quit looking at porn, or make some other kind of great sacrifice. This will signify their awareness of the "need for redemption".

Anyway... it's all very strange in a mytho-poetical way. I only have the vaguest recollections of all of this ritualized behavior. I suppose that the faithful line up in front of the proxy (or priest, minister, and/or pastor) to be blessed with the charred remains of year-old palm leaves. This all sounds shamanic to me. There are certainly pre-historical antecedents for this type of behavior. But even more bizarre is the addition of "Oil of the Catechumens" to the ashy mix. What is it and what's with it? A "catechumen" is someone who is undergoing preparation to be baptized. At least that's what Wikipedia says. Yet I can't for the life of me figure out what the oil is made out of, or made from*. It's another mystery.

* Besides olive oil... that much I could find out.

Kerry Max Cook, "Chasing Justice" (2007).

2009-02-24T15:34:00.000-05:00

As if I didn't have enough stuff to think about, I continue to struggle with my support for the death penalty. It's not that my perception of humanity has altered in any significant way. I still run up against the thorny juxtaposition of my diet (which includes many animal products) and my belief that people are simply animals (albeit a bit more sophisticated in their brain development). If I'm willing to eat something, then I have to be willing to put it to death, or at least be responsible for its slaughter, right? Sure, I'll take a pass on the feast of the dead criminal- but that doesn't mean I'm willing to forgo his/her passing. All "god's" creatures die, one way or another... and we all have a hand in that process.

Yet I'm not altogether comfortable with the company that this particular position puts me in. All too frequently I find myself at odds with death penalty advocates on just about every other political issue. And on an intuitive level, I usually don't want to be associated with them. On the other hand, the majority of those who would seek to abolish executions are folks that I respect and sometimes even admire. Why wouldn't I want to throw in my lot with them? On the other hand, I can't seem to transcend my repulsion toward the idea of out-of-control homo sapien proliferation. I guess it's akin to the way most people feel about cockroaches. There's just too many of them, and they overwhelm environments once they take root.

That doesn't mean that I don't love individuals. I can usually find something to care about in everyone, once I get to know them a bit. I'm definitely not a misanthrope on a personal level. It's only the idea of humanity that bothers me. Anyway... so yeah, why not just eliminate those who are clearly beyond redemption? Pluck them from society so they don't perpetuate their behavior? I don't find many of the counterarguments convincing. The ultimate penalty is unfairly applied, but that's a systemic issue. The appeals process is costly, but once again it comes down to management. These are problems that must be addressed. However, they aren't sufficient to convince me that capital punishment is "wrong".

What does give me pause is the reality that the innocent are sometimes executed. Since techniques to establish DNA comparisons have become cheaper and more accurate, over a 100 men have been released from death row. Kerry Max Cook is just one of them. He spent 20 years in Texas prisons (notorious for being among the worst in the nation), and he put everything he had along the way into establishing his innocence. Incredibly, the very conservative Texas Court of Appeals reversed his conviction three times. There was so much corruption in Smith County (where Cook lived) that prosecutor misconduct caused a long series of injustices. Reading this man's autobiography is a harrowing experience.

Kerry Cook was a young, sexually ambivalent man when he was charged with raping, killing, and mutilating a woman who lived in the apartment complex where he was staying. There was scant evidence that Cook was guilty, but it was used to build a distorted version of the tragic events that took place. The depictions of the courtroom dramas that sent Cook repeatedly back to prison are troubling. Perhaps even more so are the accounts of horrid abuse Cook faced while incarcerated. Chasing Justice seems like a reasonably objective retelling of the author's experiences, and lacks the pretension that often plagues convict memoirs. It certainly makes me think twice about allowing such a thing to occur in our "open and democratic" society.

Nice to Meet Me!

2009-02-20T16:10:00.002-05:00

I've often had enough hubris to honestly desire that I had several clones, so that I could see and do everything I have ever wanted to. It's an obviously ludicrous proposition for a number of reasons. First of all, the technology isn't available to the middle class. In fact one can make a damn good argument that it never will be. If all of a sudden millions of Americans could go out to the local strip mall medical facility and purchase (at a reasonable rate) a few body doubles, then this would be an inordinately overcrowded nation. Sure... a lot of beloved pets could find their second lives, and of course people (especially the more religious) would be suspicious (as they are with most innovation), but eventually their collective resistance would wear down.

There would be an abundance of folks on the streets, and that would necessarily mean a surplus of the type of assholes I already wish would somehow disappear (in a very humane way, naturally, with very little suffering). It's one thing to have to face the prospect of preparing for, and bringing to birth, another human being. However, what if one didn't have to worry about the messy aspects of carrying an unborn child? There would be no morning sickness, nor swelling, nor all the rest of the stuff that's currently included to make women (and their partners) second guess their momentous decisions. It would simply be a matter of saving up the money, and filling out a bit of paperwork.

Obviously the government would have to get involved. There's simply no way around that in a society in this modern age. There are already so many financial choices that seem impulsive and uninformed. Just look at the McMansions that suburbanites purchased during the housing boom that are now the focus of foreclosures. The target to be cloned would certainly have to assume some responsibility for their new facsimile. Especially if the clones in question started out as infants. But you see, this is where my entire scenario breaks down. Because scientists wouldn't be offering you the choice. They couldn't actually clone the YOU that is you right now. It would be a tabla rasa, so to speak, unsullied by your own personal experiences.

However, let's assume for the purpose of hijinks that they could actually create an exact replica of you, the way you exist in this present. I know you'd be at least a little tempted. Maybe you could treat the newly created being as a shadow, and make him/her work two jobs, giving you a healthy percentage of his/her total earnings. But sooner or later some activists would get together some pesky little group to step on all your fun. They'd be marching and protesting about "clone rights", and exploitation of the "clone class". Still this is another alternative reality that is unlikely, as far as I can determine from imaging what my own clone would be like. He would be trying to figure out a way to put the clone label on me, and reverse the charges.

It really is a nightmare when I think about it. What if my double figured out a way to be better than me, despite the contrived similarities in experience and genome? That wouldn't be good for my self-esteem. What if my wife decided that she liked him better? There would have to be some serious negotiations to make sure that the situation worked out for my benefit. Of course I couldn't rely on my current powers of manipulation, as my clone would already know all of those tricks. Could I work with myself, if that self was manifest in a separate body? I think that's the ultimate question that needs to be answered. It would be a shame if I somehow wasted an opportunity like that.

Gambling... our future.

2009-02-19T16:09:00.000-05:00

A few years ago, the wise men who lead Pennsylvania decided to legalize "gambling". This meant that they would issue licenses to a few lucky parties to build casinos to house slot machines. Apparently these would serve as tourist attractions, or alternatively keep local gambling addicts in town to spend their money (as opposed to, say, having these folks drive to Wheeling, WV). Personally, I don't go in for this sort of "gaming", and I was decidedly uninterested in having the opportunity to play slots in my hometown. At the same time, I felt that if people really wanted to waste their money this way... why shouldn't they be allowed to? Who am I to judge folks and the way they spend their hard-earned cash?

As far as I understood, the reason to allow such activities was to generate revenue that could offset property tax reductions. I've been a home-owner for over a half decade, so this sounded good to me. And I had no moral qualms about folks throwing their dollars in the public kitty, with irrational dreams of becoming wealthy overnight. I wasn't sure why these gambling licenses were limited to slot machines, nor could I figure out the particular appeal of such a game. It didn't seem like anything that could ever hold my interest even if I was interested in placing bets. Why not include high-stakes poker or blackjack? Hell, even something like the roulette wheel seems more captivating. But to each their own.

It's been years since the legislation allowing "gaming" was passed, and Western PA is still waiting for the grand opening of the casino. Meanwhile times are getting tougher. So now PA Governor Ed Rendell is casting about for other ways to generate money for the state. His latest idea is to legalize the video poker machines that have been part of the bar/cafe scene for as long as I've been in the 'Burgh. I don't remember seeing them in Eastern PA, but I'm aware that they've been quite popular around these parts. The first time I saw a back-room full of these things in a ma-and-pop convenience store, I was confounded. After I got my first job at a bar, I realized that these places did indeed pay out winnings in cash. I assumed the entire business was mob-run. I knew it was illegal.

Rendell believes that the state can generate serious income (he estimates $550 million) for higher education by bringing these operations "above board". In his proposal, PA would get 50% of the take and leave the rest for the individual owner of the machine. I'm not quite sure where that leaves the syndicates that have been in charge of this illicit business for decades. Obviously there are some parties whose interests are at stake. The anti-gambling lobby couldn't help but oppose this. But the most vocal resistance is coming from the new casino operators who believe that video poker will eat into their own profits. Ultimately, at least a few lawmakers suspect that Rendell is simply positioning himself to push through table games as an alternative.

Meanwhile, PA State Senator Jeffrey Piccola (out of Harrisburg) has entered the fray with a counter-proposal. He's putting forth a plan that intends to boost tuition aid assistance for state schools that would (speculatively) serve an additional 25,000 students. But he wouldn't do it through legalizing video poker. Piccola wants to cut funding for the state's museums, private colleges, and art programs. He also wants to end the tax credit that Pennsylvania has extended to attract film production companies. It's difficult to understand Mr. Piccola's logic on this matter. He wants to enable more folks to get higher education, at the expense of the type of jobs and careers that such training will prepare them for. Let's all hail another genius politico.

The Sky Has Fallen... (or was that just the dollar?)

2009-02-18T16:06:00.000-05:00

WE all know the American economy is suffering. Just how bad it's going to get is a question on everyone's mind. Turn on the news and see how long it takes for a reminder of our plight. Wait for the latest announcement of huge corporate layoffs. Listen to the terms "stimulus package" and "bail-out". Suffer through the poor attempts at poetry. Check out the Dow Jones Index. If you can make it to the end of the broadcast, kick back for the human interest story. Can they still put a happy face on their product? This is not your father's evening news (unless you are a senior citizen). The fear is palpable, no matter how well-coiffed the news anchor is. This is a bigger security story than "terrorism".

Great. Now you know the truth. We have dug ourselves a very deep hole, and it has widened into a chasm. People are gathered around its periphery, trying to determine if it will be less painful to skirt around the edges or simply dive in headfirst. There is a huge industry devoted to making sure your choice is the latter. Throw a penny into the darkness and find out when it hits bottom. Now try it with a dollar, or a trillion of them. There are hundreds of "experts" and talking heads trying to fathom the depths. Some are nearsighted, and some are the opposite. They will tell you their predictions. They will help you make an informed choice. Maybe they will push you into the darkness.

I know that the picture is far from rosy. It just seems that everyone is trying to outdo each other with their Cassandra calls. Are there going to be people dying in the streets? Will they be expiring from hunger or loss of blood? Will China or India overtake the United States and become the next superpower? Will Bin Laden proclaim his victory over the West? Will your ancestors rise out of their mouldering graves and remind you that they told you so? Will your children stare at you in mute accusation? Do they know that their destiny is one of panhandling and indentured servitude? What compromises will you have to make to feed your family, or pay your mortgage? Will you have to serve fries at McDonald's?

There's just not that much useful information available. Do you have any relatives that are old enough to remember what it was like to live during the Great Depression of the 30's? Don't you wish that you had taken the opportunity to have that little chat? Were you too busy laughing at their strange little habits? Was it the way they ate leftovers? Was it the fact that they never threw anything away? Who would live like that in a time of abundance? Maybe (in high school) you heard about what they had lived through, but it never seemed quite real enough for you, did it? What did it have to do with your life, and your grand prosperous future, and your free markets of infinite growth?

Perhaps it's time to turn off the television, and start thinking about how your life may change. It just may be a time for reassessment. What is it in your life that you cannot lose? I'm already starting to think about ways to ensure my (and my family's) well-being. And I've come to the conclusion that the corporate media isn't helping very much. It's alarmist, which probably reflects the reality of the situation, but they aren't offering much useful information. I've talked to my friends about the things they know well. I've looked at my lifestyle and thought about the things that would be possible to give up. The funny thing is that a lot of what I have cannot be depreciated along with the value of currency. I'm finding it enlightening to gain that perspective.

Speak of the Devil.

2009-02-17T16:29:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking lately of the Devil. There are many names for what I am referring to and I'd like to make it clear exactly what I'm talking about. I'm not necessarily speaking of the "Anti-God" so present in the conception of many Christians. My subject here is not one who presides over a mystical place of eternal damnation featuring a "lake of fire". In fact I'm not interested in any "otherworldy phenomenon", but rather in the moral calculus of our own earthly existence. If something akin to "evil" exists, then there must somewhere live the embodiment of that quality, or at least the single individual that represents its greatest accumulation. This creature would be the best candidate for the position of "the Devil".

At heart I am a relativist. I tend to discount broad and sweeping terms, and the words "good" and "evil" are examples of the type that tend to create what I consider "false dichotomies". But perhaps they serve as useful shorthand for the effects that the actions of certain people have on others. Certainly many agree that someone like Adolf Hitler fits the common definition of "evil", regardless of the reality that the memory of his deeds are still honored by his philosophical heirs. Similarly, a majority of folks who are familiar with the legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr. consider him a paragon of "the good", yet there are still those who resent the things that he did to permanently change society.

Still there is likely a greater proportion of humanity that puts stock in these categorizations than rejects them. Some believe that "evil" and "good" exist outside the human mind in an objective sense, and work as external forces that possess people. They are somehow beyond the everyday decisions and actions that individuals choose. Others think that these are traits that manifest themselves in the "heart" and/or brain. Obviously this introduces a factor of subjectivity into the moral equation. Furthermore, there is a minority that views these things as more of an allegory. Maybe they aren't willing to commit to the absolute existence of "good" and "evil", but they find them useful labels in describing the choices that people make.

I think the best case for the existence of "evil" is the violation of consensuality. But that's not necessarily within the purview of this particular post, so I won't expand on it. Often "the Devil" takes the physical form of temptation. Someone who is a "bad influence" can be referred to as "the Devil". He/she may try to persuade the individual to do things that he/she believes that they should not do, even though they may want to. I see this as a cop-out. This type of externalization seems like a convenient justification for all manner of misbehavior. The desire to act out obviously manifests itself internally. If you don't have the desire to engage in whatever you define as "sin", then there's no reason to carry it out.

To me, the most intriguing form of "The Devil" is more of a poetic representation. This is an archetype that has found its expression in arts and letters. One notable embodiment of this specter is Dr. Faustus. This is "The Devil" that you make a deal with to get something at the expense of your soul. In this story, "The Devil" is a type of bogeyman who serves as the ultimate heavy in a cautionary tale. He makes you face the truth, and exposes what you are willing to give up to realize your most self-interested dreams. And for this he extracts a terrible price. In giving up the core of your ethics, you merge with "evil" itself. The game is over, and any distinctions melt away. You have become the symbol of your darkest urges.

What is "Informed Faith"?

2009-02-16T16:30:00.000-05:00

One of the things I particularly enjoy and appreciate about my circle of friends (and I'm fortunate enough to have a wide circle of them) is the level of conversation that often occurs, even when we are all kicking back on a weekend night. This past Friday was specifically enlightening as our banter turned to the issue of faith. Given the turn our nation has taken over the last decade or so, faith is a concept that has increasingly assumed a level of pejorative association among certain quarters of society. The reactionary turning toward fundamentalism has turned a lot of people away from the idea. I suppose that this issue isn't specifically contained to the US, but has rather become an international crisis.

Taking into account that context, it's not surprising that someone I would respect would lump all forms of faith together under the same banner, and ridicule all and sundry adherents. Yet I think that this type of generalization can lead to a narrowing of an important dialog. I've come to believe in a wide variegation of attitudes, definitions, and approaches to faith. I've been trending this way for a while, but it's mostly been at a subconscious or an intuitive level. I have to give a shout-out here to J.C. Hallman and (as an extension) William James for helping lead me to the language necessary for framing my thoughts. Ultimately truth is a function of an individual's perspective of the consequences of his/her actions.

As a starting point I'd like to suggest that there is a simplistic but substantial difference between "Faith" and faith. The former entails the fundamentalist variety I mentioned earlier. In the case of "Faith", the individual formation of ideals isn't as important as the level of commitment one brings to them. One determines his/her "Faithfulness" according to how rarely (s)he questions his/her belief system. The individual earns his/her identity with acceptance bred from a revocation of rationality. In fact this is belief beyond reason (in a Kierkegaardian "leap of faith" sense). All of this is well understood and sounds almost cliché to the postmodern reader. I realize that I'm not expressing anything particularly revelatory by spelling this out.

But at the same time, those who embrace a form of pure rational scientific thought seem to be missing a crucial piece of the puzzle... for there is a level of faith involved in the paradigm of cause-and-effect as well. I believe that there are many people that never consciously acknowledge this proposition. The very nature of the empirical sciences entails a quality of mystery. We form our questions about our external reality, and then we seek to study them under certain controlled conditions to isolate a chain of causality. That's all well-and-good. However I think some folks tend to misrepresent the conclusions of such experiments as "ultimate answers".

Even if we have ample scientific data concerning specific phenomena, we still rely on a level of speculation that requires a degree of faith to help us guide our decisions. As soon as we anticipate a time beyond the present, we are unavoidably engaging in the practice of faith, no matter how informed (or alternatively misinformed) our expectations are. So I'm a bit uncomfortable when someone discounts faith outright. We may be able to apply a statistical analysis to a problem (and of course that system itself is vulnerable to a wide range of manipulations), but our understanding is still limited by the constructs of prior experience (and received preconceptions). Just as Eskimos have an expanded language to communicate the different forms of snow, I think we have to honor the idiosyncrasies of "faith".

Sara Gruen, "Water for Elephants" (2006).

2009-02-13T16:09:00.000-05:00

Every once in awhile a book hits the wider public consciousness, and the relatively small group of readers left in this nation recommend it to each other. Sometimes it is an activist effort- new age beliefs or other ideas that challenge the contemporary belief construct, masquerading as a novel. These often seem revelatory while you are reading them, and then slightly silly in retrospect, after a bit of time passes. And then there are other books that are hyped for their pure escapism. The discriminating reader is usually just as suspicious of these works as he/she is of polemical fiction. If it's as popular as it seems, it follows that it could well be an appeal to the lowest common denominator. In these instances, one considers the source(s) of the recommendation.

There is reading that you do while laying in the sand at the beach, and there is the kind that you engage alone at night on your living room couch. Obviously these categories are subjective and mutable. If I can identify a single quality that distinguishes Sara Gruen's Water for Elephants from most of the offerings of the American publishing industry, I'd have to say that it is a title that would find an appropriate home in the hands of a sunbather and/or a domestic recluse. It's not necessarily "highbrow literature", but it won't insult your intelligence unless you are hypercritical. It's 300 pages (and change) that turn quickly, and it has just enough meat on its skeleton to sustain the reader's imagination.

I know why the people that told me to read this did so. They know that I have a moderate obsession dedicated to "show business". I use this term in the old sense, referring to "outmoded" forms of entertainment such as vaudeville, carnivals, and independently-run amusement parks. Of course it is a reasonable leap of logic to suspect that I'd be interested in a story set within a circus company in the 1930's. Indeed it didn't take me long to get captivated by the vernacular of the traveling show. It's easily apparent that Gruen took the time to learn the language, and her work wouldn't be nearly enjoyable if she hadn't. For me, it's a quick way to my heart. I love getting into the intricacies of argot, especially when it comes to the bygone "show era".

The plot itself is only marginally compelling. The protagonist is a newly-orphaned young adult named Jacob Jankowski, who drops out of his veterinary program at Cornell right before final exams, and hops a train. He happens to land on bed of a stock car used by the Benzini Brothers Circus, a spectacle in between a "Mud Show" and Ringling Brothers. It doesn't take long for Jacob to realize that he needs to grab whatever opportunity he can, given that he is living in the midst of a Great Depression that is ravaging what used to be the Middle Class. So he embraces a new way of life, and becomes a "First of May" in the rough-and-tumble, gritty world of performers and working men that separately and together ensure that the show goes on.

Sure, Jacob falls in love with a woman (Marlena, who so happens to be married), and manages to ingratiate himself to the owner (Uncle Al) and the Superintendent of Animals (August, who is Marlena's husband), at the same time becoming mired in a nasty love triangle. It's pretty typical melodrama... basically soap opera stuff. But for me the point is not the narrative, but rather the details. Gruen took the time to research the ambiance and background of her thematic material. This effort lends a sense of authenticity to her tale. For this she deserves unreserved accolades. Ultimately it doesn't matter that the plot is predictable, or the relationships cliché. She has successfully evoked a time-and-place long past. That alone justifies all her efforts.

Farewell to Vito.

2009-02-12T15:56:00.003-05:00

If you were expecting a "things to do in Pittsburgh" post, I'm sad to say that you are going to be disappointed. There isn't much going on this weekend in the Pittsburgh arts community. I suppose that's for the best too, because I wanted to take the time to write about something that is bound to come out sounding overly sentimental. So if you aren't in the mood for melodrama, you should probably just move on now. Because last night we had to put down my favorite cat, and I'm none too happy about it. I understand that no one can really understand what Vito meant to me, and I expect that the typical reaction will be "Oh, that's too bad", and stop right there. I think that's entirely justified, and I'd probably react the same way if we were talking about someone else's pet.

But my reality is that I've lost one of my best friends. I know that sounds utterly ridiculous to anyone that hasn't formed a close bond with an animal, and it would have sounded a bit silly to me before Vito showed up on our back porch in Lawrenceville about eight (or so) years ago. He was as skinny as a rail, and desperate to gain entry to our house. From the look of him, I guessed he wasn't even a full-grown adult yet. Whenever I would get home (we didn't have a key to the front door), he'd be waiting for me, loudly protesting my intentions to leave him outside. If I sat down on the ratty couch, he'd jump up on my lap and bump heads with me. Every time I entered the house he would try to beat the closing of the screen door. I caught him in it a few times.

At the time we already had a cat (Altaires) that we believed preferred his isolation, and we had no intentions of taking in another roommate. But somehow Altaires seemed quite chummy with the interloper. They'd actually hang out together whenever we let A. out. They ganged up against a female bully in the neighborhood. One day M. was in what served as her changing room on the second floor and she heard a mewing beyond the closed window. There was that pesky cat, pretending that he couldn't come down from the porch roof, which he no doubt had little trouble scaling. M. fell for it and let him in, and chased him around for awhile trying to expel him. She was unsuccessful, and he stayed for good.

It didn't take long for Vito (we named him as if he was a hired henchman for Altaires... he was briefly called "psycho-kitty") to wend his way into all of our hearts. Even visitors who disliked cats tended to like Vito. M. was initially dead set against having him stay, but eventually she too fell in love with him. Although he still had his front claws, he was gentle on people and furniture. He was social with humans his entire life. We took him to the vet, and learned that he had about five kinds of parasites in his system. Apparently he had been close to death. And we learned that he was already about 7 or 8 years old. He was certainly old enough to express to us that he was thankful that we took him in permanently. He never seemed to forget what we had done for him.

I'm not exactly sure how long we had Vito. It was about 8-9 years I guess. During that time he was an unfailing companion, quick to take his position on a pillow between M. and I on our bed while we slept. Often he'd perch above me over my head as I read on the couch and lick my hair or lightly nip at my skull. He never lost the habit of head-butting me when he wanted to demonstrate his affection. He was also extremely vocal, always letting me know that he was there, waiting for attention. Over the last twelve months we could tell he was in advanced age, but for the most part he maintained his essential character. At the end he lost a lot of weight and his kidneys failed.

He was obviously in pain, and tried to get outside to find a place to die. M. took him to the Animal Rescue so he could pass quickly, painlessly, and with dignity. I'll miss him and remember him with love forever.

Matt Ogens, "Confessions of a Superhero" (2007).

2009-02-11T17:08:00.000-05:00

Last night I felt the need to kick back by myself and absorb a movie. I used to do that all the time, and the habit resulted in multiple posts with reviews. Lately I haven't made the time to see films by myself, and it was refreshing to have the opportunity to do so. I could have wasted ten or fifteen minutes agonizing over what title to pick. I certainly have a large stockpile of shrink-wrapped and unwatched DVDs waiting for me. But for some reason, I knew ahead of time that I wanted to see a documentary that I recently acquired called Confessions of a Superhero. It was produced by Morgan Spurlock (of Supersize Me fame) and directed by newcomer Matt Ogens. I had heard from others that it was well worth watching.

Ogens somehow became fascinated by the costumed characters that pose for photographs with tourists in front of Mann's Chinese Theater in Hollywood. These folks aren't affiliated with the business attached to the sidewalk they haunt, and in some ways they are really just glorified pan-handlers. Supposedly there are up to 70 different people donning tights, capes and whatnot to hustle dollars from the rubes. There is a Ghost Rider, a dude from Hellraiser, an Elmo, a Cookie Monster, a Chewbacca, a couple of Marilyn Monroes, and a handful of Spidermen. Certainly the assortment of masked freaks changes with the times, depending upon whatever pop culture items are currently in vogue.

But the director of Confessions wisely concentrated on four individuals who apparently had the most intriguing personal stories. We meet Jennifer Wenger (Wonder Woman), Maxwell Allen (Batman), Joe McQueen (The Incredible Hulk), and Christopher Dennis (Superman). It's easy to identify Dennis right off the bat as the informal leader and unofficial representative of the profession. His obsession with the caped hero seems to overwhelm almost every other aspect of his life. Footage of the small apartment he shares with his wife discloses an environment chock-a-bloc with collectibles and memorabilia, all devoted to the worship of the man from Kal-El. And yet somehow that's not even the weirdest part of his personal story.

One might expect anyone that dresses up in costume in order to bum money from strangers to be eccentric, and the folks that Ogens highlights are certainly not exceptions. The girl that plays Wonder Woman was reportedly Ms. Popularity back in high school, and she is probably the most normal of the bunch. I assume she was chosen to add a sexy element to the proceedings. McQueen also seems fairly sane, despite the fact that he spent a number of years as a homeless man, and his decision to appropriate an identity that entails wearing a suffocating body suit in a climate that often exceeds 100 degrees Fahrenheit. The George Clooney lookalike that plays Batman, on the other hand, is completely off his gourd.

If you don't feel at least a little bit sorry for these posers, then I suspect that you aren't fully human. Without exception, they have all landed in their silly outfits in order to "make it" in the Hollywood film industry. It doesn't seem like any wild stretch to predict that they will all inevitably fail in this quest. Yet somehow they have found a means to stay in the public eye, and engage the world of entertainment that they love. Is what these people do any more ridiculous or pathetic then dressing up in a mouse costume in Disney World? Yes, they depend on the largess of passersby to make their living... but at least they work for themselves and control their own destinies. And they all get to appear in this beautifully-shot flick.

William Gay, "Twilight" (2006).

2009-02-10T17:00:00.000-05:00

I put off reading William Gay's Twilight for months after I found it on the shelves of a used book store. I had already been through his first two novels over the past twelve months, and I didn't want to run out of his works too quickly. Gay is an older man at 65, and I'm not sure how many more novels he has in him. I like the idea of setting one by for a rainy day. On the other hand, I've become accustomed to thinking about this author as one of my favorites, and I feel some obligation to complete my reading of his output in its entirety. Now I have just one collection of short stories to go, and then I'll have to wait for the publication of his work-in-progress, which is apparently titled The Lost Country.

Unlike Gay's previous two novels (Provinces of Night and The Long Home), Twilight is almost devoid of humor. It concerns a macabre discovery unearthed by siblings Kenneth and Corrie Tyler. Apparently the local undertaker (Fenton Breece) is kinkier than his job should allow. Gay doesn't necessarily linger over the details of Breece's perversions (at least not at first), but the reader is meant to understand that this creep has overstepped the lines of criminal decency. The Tylers are alerted to his activities because they have recently lost their bootlegging father and they have espied Breece removing a precious article from his grave. Upon further investigation, they realize that the man is up to no good.

While one might be tempted to immediately blow the whistle on such a ghoul, sister Corrie see these circumstances as an opportunity for her and Kenneth to escape the poverty of their life, and get out of town. She would like to blackmail Breece, but needs proof of his wrongdoing. This comes in the form of polaroid shots of the undertaker abusing dead bodies in his workshop. Despite her brother's hesitancy, Corrie approaches Breece and demands fifteen thousand dollars for the return of the photos. Now Fenton Breece is a bit of a pampered aristocrat, but he doesn't relish being extorted by a teen-aged girl (especially one that he has lusted after in the past). So he hires the meanest cuss in town to get the photographs back.

Granville Sutter is a bad, bad dude from rotten stock. It's no secret that townspeople fear him, and Kenneth Tyler would like to give him a wide berth. Unfortunately Sutter has targeted the young man as the weak link, and believes that the threat of violence against the siblings will compel them to give up the game. Sutter doesn't necessarily approve of what Breece has been up to, nor does he really want to know any of the gory details. He just wants what's coming to him when he delivers the goods to Breece. And he's bound to employ any means to accomplish his mission. Not surprisingly, things turn ugly for the Tylers. Soon enough Kenneth finds himself on the lam, pursued by the maniacal Sutter.

Much of Twilight takes place in a vast tract of overgrown wilderness called the Harrikan. It is in this haunted terrain that Sutter attempts to overcome Kenneth Tyler, and the boy in turn encounters some truly archetypal Southern Gothic figures. Gay is able to make the Harrikan come alive with his efficient yet evocative description of flora and fauna. Interspersed within the woods are the abandoned detritutus of coal and other industrial operations that accentuate the sense that the characters are passing through a forbidden "no man's land". A feeling of impending doom accompanies the text, so that the reader is not sure what might happen next, but remains continuously aware that the possibilities are virtually endless.

Chuck Klosterman, "IV- A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas" (2006)

2009-02-09T16:01:00.000-05:00

You have to be either extremely pretentious or tragically hip to bill your own book as containing "dangerous ideas" in the contemporary media environment. Chuck Klosterman certainly fits into the latter category. Throw him in the bundle of latter day pop culture critics that insist on injecting a self-conscious and irreverent post-modernism into their work. I'm under the impression that IV has been named to reference the number of books that the author has been successful in publishing previously. It's also apparently a shout-out to what Klosterman considers the genesis of the heavy metal rock genre- the Led Zeppelin album of the same name. That's a heady presumption for someone analyzing the state of modern music.

It's easy to make fun of a guy like Klosterman, who commits his rather formidable wit and imagination to topics as inane as Brittany Spears, classic rock tribute bands, and the movie Road House. In fact, a quick Google search will provide plenty of exposure to the vast pool of negative reaction to Klosterman's antics. But all of this should be taken in context. The periodicals that the Minnesota-native has written for have been an odd mix of mass market pap and respected establishment vehicles (GQ, Esquire, The Washington Post, Spin, The Believer, etc.). Sure, his attitude is decidedly populist, but that kind of approach is increasingly in vogue in this post-ironic environment.

That's not to say that Chuck Klosterman is without a certain degree of cynicism. He is perfectly capable of identifying the worst instincts of the American collective consciousness. Still he seems to be beholden to a Midwestern respect for the everyman. In one essay, he absolutely rejects the notion of a lightly-held "guilty pleasure". He points out that one may actually derive enjoyment from something morally unsound, but that's not what people mean by the term. Klosterman is stridently defensive about his tastes. He insists that his love for Billy Joel, KISS, and other bad hair metal bands is sincere. The last thing he would feel compelled to do is apologize for his preferences.

What you have to understand about this collection of essays is that Klosterman takes his subjects seriously, regardless of whether he is analyzing the contributions of a white basketball player, the significance of Johnny Carson, the lyrics of a British hip-hop artist, or a rock-and-roll cruise featuring the likes of REO Speedwagon, STYX, and Journey. If mass consumption disturbs you, it is likely that the themes throughout IV might leave you a bit cold. This is a guy who suggests that one of society's greatest needs is more substantial video game criticism, and he is convinced that anyone that fills that niche will be wealthy. But he'll also let you know that he doesn't necessarily have time for that.

It would be foolish to say that Klosterman's writing is devoid of compelling insight. Oftentimes he is provocative and original in his ideas. There may be a high level of superficiality, yet the spectrum of social commentary includes a wavelength for which he is ideally suited. And he is clever. One of the features of IV that I found interesting was the inclusion of inquiry-based introductions for each piece. In order to draw the reader into what may be a litany of observations about minutiae, Klosterman posits some "very big questions". An example: Would you rather be anonymous, or remembered for something completely peripheral to how you lived your life? It seems to me that Chuck Klosterman is hedging his bets.

The Stimulus Package.

2009-02-06T16:26:00.000-05:00

It's been weeks since I started thinking about the "stimulus package", and days since I considered writing about it. Yet what's kept me from attempting an exposition of my thoughts is the utter state of confusion that everybody is mired in regarding this prospective legislation. It's simply too big a subject. There may be individuals who claim to understand what it means, but I suspect that this "understanding" results more from ideology (or mere wishful thinking) than any clear perspective about the realities of the situation that necessitates it. My "spidey sense" is telling me that we are fucked beyond conception. Prophets have been foretelling this condition for decades, and so few have heeded their warnings.

I don't think that we can boil down our problems to a demi-glace of credit default and Wall Street shenanigans. The issues plaguing our economy have been sitting rank in the open air for longer than most are suggesting. Sure, our federal and state governments have been compounding the problems with willful ignorance and rampant corruption... but our citizenry must accept its share of responsibility. Ten trillion (+) dollars is an amazing number that lies beyond the reasonable comprehension of the human brain, but that amount is dwarfed by the amounts of personal debt that accumulate when we consider the personal debts of all Americans. And for this there is no easy excuse.

Who do we expect to lead us out of these dark borderlands? If people have built Barack Obama into a sort of messianic figure, it is only because of our desperate need for such a mythical creature. We've already played out that story. How many saviors can we create? Jesus Christ is said to have died for our spiritual sins, and those are certainly beyond quantification. That ambiguity is convenient for those that seek to offer us comfort. But we have created a standard of value for material things, and there will be no symbolic expiation available to clear our books. We are stuck with the prospect of a Day of Reckoning. The "infinite growth" of free market capitalism was a lie. We can't continue to fuel our economy on debt.

Still there is no doubt in my mind that we will try to spend our way out of our predicament, even if we have to pull the money out of thin air to achieve this. Like it or not, hyperinflation is the only answer. The main puzzle to sort out is how to distribute the paper. Shall we continue to put it in the hands of the institutions that have fomented our crisis? Wall Street, the banks, and the global corporate capitalists all ensured us of the viability of our system. They assumed the authority to guide the operation of our society, and they should face the most severe consequences of its failures. Most of us were given no choice to distinguish ourselves from the gamblers. The stakes were pre-determined at our birth.

When I hear the voices of those that have belatedly discovered "fiscal conservatism", my blood pressure rises and the muscles in my forehead spasm involuntarily. When Congressional "leaders" lament the prospect of increased taxes, I feel like puking. Everyone needs to realize that we've already spent our legacy. We've been profligate, and future generations will inevitably suffer from our wasteful ways. If we are going to "inject" more currency into our economy, we have a duty to invest it in such a way that our heirs will see some small benefit. It's time to go beyond considerations of our own comfort. We have earned the impending Depression. There's no avoiding it.

Pittsburgh Art Happenings: 2/6-7/09

2009-02-05T15:49:00.001-05:00

Predictably, this first weekend of February is packed with openings after the typical January layoff. The feast or famine proposition is once again in full force... there's little chance that you are going to see everything, so take a miute or two to identify a couple priorities.

Friday

The first Friday of the month (almost) always brings Unblurred (on Penn Avenue between Garfield and Friendship), and as usual there is a lot to see. Your first stop should be Clay Penn (5111 PENN AVE), where Laura Jean has put together PRINTS N'AT, a collection of choice work by Bob LaBobgah, David Pohl, Bob Ziller and yours truly. I'm quite happy to be put together with these three distinguished artists, as they have many years of art-making experience between them. My contributions for the show constitute a photographic postmortem for the "American Dream". Stop by between 7 and 9PM.

Imagebox (4933 PENN AVE) is featuring the collages of Richard Schnap, in a show entitled "Strange Channels". If you've been a habitue of the local art scene for any length of time, you are already familiar with his work. Lauren Toohey entered the Pittsburgh consciousness relatively recently, but has been prolific in her output. She is presenting a steamy assortment of her paintings along with Elisabeth Scott under the title SEXUAL at Most Wanted Fine Art (5015 PENN AVE).

In recognition of Black History Month, Garfield Artworks (4931 PENN AVE) is offering "The Biko Museum Experience", as well as "Facemadics" by craftsman and artist Diamond Axe. I've seen Homewood resident Emory Biko's work at the Mattress Factory, and I recommend you take a breath or two before appreciating his hard-hitting social commentary. Meanwhile Ed Steck has some commentary of his own regarding the degradation of the American landscape. His reception for the METAL NJIGHT (4919 PENN AVE) series is at Modern Formations .

Due to my frequent attendance at Unblurred, I never make it over to Shadyside's monthly art walk. But I just might make the effort this time to see Thommy Conroy' solo of paintings over at Steve Mendelson's gallery (5874 Ellsworth Avenue, 6-8PM). Conroy used to be co-owner of the now defunct (but always spectacular) La Vie on Butler Street in Lawrenceville. There used to be a time when I saw him almost weekly, and I've often wondered how he's been spending his hours. This looks like the perfect opportunity to find out.

No doubt I'll end my art travels with a stop at Zombo Gallery for the opening of Adam Waddell's paintings. This guy is pretty brash. During last year's Art All Night he hung up a portrait of a smiling "Chinaman" accompanied by a "Rising Sun" flag. With this kind of geographical and cultural confusion as an example, I can only imagine what type of stuff his disordered mind can create. Good thing I don't have to speculate anymore.

Saturday

Pittsburgh Center for the Arts has turned over all of their spaces, and the opening reception for the new exhibitions are this weekend (5:30-8:00PM). Patricia Bellan-Gillen's ZOO.Logic+ looks intriguing, with her "vast planes of vivid color and masterfully drafted animal imagery". I love all creatures... big, small, and painted. God only knows what the Society of Yoruba Beads will offer with their Transformations... and "generative processes" by Los Angeles-based C.E.B. Reas and Berlin-based Marius Watz sounds equally enigmatic. But everything will certainly be brought under the blinding light of infinite clarity at the Associated Artists of Pitsburgh show, which celebrated its organization's longevity by asking their members to come up with pieces inspired by the theme "99". Overwhelmed patrons can check out the ambiguously titled Video Retrospective, 1990-2009.

Panza Gallery (115 Sedgwick Street in Millvale) is featuring the work of U. of Pgh art grads Adrian Chin and Julian Betkowski. I'll get a preview of the work tonight, but readers of this blog will have to make due with the promotional image for the show. I know it sparks my interest. The opening reception is from 6-9PM.

J.C. Hallman, "The Devil is a Gentleman" (2006).

2009-02-04T16:04:00.000-05:00

Last year I reached my reading target in May, and by June I had consumed 50 books. I felt pretty certain that I would set a personal record with my annual total. However, I got complacent and limped along to the end of the year, largely neglecting anyone's written words but my own. Being largely a creature of habit, I have allowed that lack of forward momentum to infect this first month of 2009 as well. I intend to turn this around, and acknowledge that it is going to be hard work doing so. Falling out of the practice of daily reading has made me slow. It doesn't necessarily help that I've made a couple selections of rather dense material so far. One such title is J.C. Hallman's The Devil is a Gentleman.

The intellectual center of The Devil is a Gentleman is made up from observations the author made about the life and work of philosopher, psychologist and writer William James. This eminent scholar has been the focus of much study over the last century, and Hallman wisely forgoes an in depth analysis of his work. Instead he concentrates on presenting a skeleton account of James' life, along with a smattering of his more important ideas and thoughts. Ultimately Hallman is compelled most by the accounts of observations that James compiled in The Varieties of Religious Experience (1902). The fact that it's so hard to identify this great man's ultimate conclusions allows the reader to personally identify with various facets of his journey.

This ambiguity inspired Hallman's own personal quest of "seeking". Today's world presents just as many opportunities to study man's relationship with god as existed in the era of William James. If you scratch the surface, you will find no end to the strange assortment of approaches to spirituality lying just beneath society's orthodox veneer. Hallman travels to Southern California on a pilgrimage to the site of the Heaven's Gate suicides and tries to interview the neighbors. Finding a predictable resistance, he broadens his exploration of the area by visiting an extant UFO cargo cult. He thus establishes a baseline of weirdness for what follows throughout his book. The insights he constructs are often as fascinating as the individual tales he unearths.

In my opinion, one of Hallman's keys to success is found in his open minded attitude toward what many Americans would consider disturbing and confounding takes on faith. It's manifestly apparent that Hallman wanted to engage the objects of his study on their own terms. This strategy allows him a level of access that many writers would preclude due to their own preconceptions. Instead we get to be present alongside Hallman when he attends the bible study of a group of "Born Again" Christian professional wrestlers who seek to transform souls through their performances. He also participates in a Wiccan ritual and a Satanic "Black Mass". He even takes a Scientology Training course.

Alongside these perambulations (and those of William James), Hallman includes lots of contextual information and historical data about the religious groups he interacts with. The stories of the founders of many of these odd belief systems provide some of the most interesting higlights of The Devil is a Gentleman. Who knew that there was an Atheist community dedicated to the support of non-believers? For that matter, who imagined a group of neo-Pagans holding their convention in a casino? Ultimately though, the concise descriptions about Jamesian "Pragmatism" are likely to stick with me the longest. For years I've always considered the outcomes of belief more important than their rationalizations or origins. I just didn't realize that there was a name for that perpsective.

The Right's Newfound Fear of Executive Orders.

2009-02-03T16:10:00.000-05:00

If you still listen to conservative talk radio (despite its rapidly decreasing relevance in the American political scene), you've probably noticed that guys like Limbaugh, Hannity, and Savage are beside themselves in the wake of the Democratic takeover of the federal government. This is all easy to understand when you consider how far and how fast the GOP has fallen since the election of 2006. It's difficult to believe that the Republican Party had attained a complete consolidation of national power as recently as little more than three years ago. Things have definitely changed, and many pundits are having difficulty making the proper adjustments. That may be a shame for their followers, but it can also be quite entertaining.

One topic of intense consternation on the extreme Right is the presidential power of executive order. Obviously, while George W. Bush presided, uber-conservatives were only too happy to welcome his heavy-handed governance, and Cheney's construction of "the unitary executive". This approach made the Bush administration one of the most overreaching political bodies in modern American history. With the complicity of much of the media, Bush and company were able to reign almost completely unchallenged in Washington. And indeed, much of their agenda was prosecuted via executive order. Obviously this category of proclamation that carries the force of law is an important tool in the presidential arsenal.

Regardless of your interpretation of the legitimacy of Bush/Cheney, there can be no arguing that they fully embraced the concept of ruling by fiat. For a complete list of executive orders passed from 2001-08 (broken down by category), you can consult this site. If that math is correct, Dubya issued 284 executive orders during his eight years in office. He put out eight in the first month of his first term. Even more telling, he wrote five during his last working week as the president. Of course this accounting doesn't apply to the other directives and signing statements he made while occupying the Oval Office. For guys like Limbaugh, Savage and Hannity to bitch about Obama's activity so far is laughable.

Obama's critics are frothing at their collective mouth because they know he is a formidable leader who will actively work to undo a lot of the damage of his predecessor. It's especially amusing to see them try to hide their assaults under the banner of concern for the US Constitution. But when they hyperventilate about the "unprecedented" total of Obama's executive orders (I count five on the official White House site), they rarely if ever get into the details of their opposition. Do you have any idea what type of policy that Obama is trying to execute with his directives? You certainly don't if you listen to Conservative hack radio. They'd rather try to frighten with lies than enlighten with facts.

Let me provide a quick breakdown so far, Three of our President's executive orders fall under the banner of defense policy objectives. He is closing the prison at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba (1). He is setting up new standards and practices for the interrogation of detainees in US custody (2), and he is establishing a Special Interagency Task Force on Detainee Disposition (3). Furthermore he has sought to hold executive branch appointees to certain new ethical requirements (4) and established a policy to make Presidential records more accessible (5). Make a quick analysis of this list and tell me which of these E.O.'s present a danger to our rights under the US Constitution...

Opening the Sixth Seal.

2009-02-02T17:30:00.000-05:00

Perhaps you are aware that I am not a big football fan. This is a longstanding condition for me, and one that puts me at odds with the majority of Americans. Still it is not an essential discordance because (subjectively) I have a lot of opinions and preferences that nudge me well outside of the mainstream. So I likely wouldn't fixate on my avoidance of watching the NFL (and the college and high school equivalents) if I didn't live in Pittsburgh. Admitting that you don't care about the Steelers is like claiming you don't care about the availability of clean water. It's the kind of statement that invites a combination of disdain, disbelief, and/or outright confusion. I'm well used to it.

One might assume that such a position would be wholly inconvenient. But actually I have found it quite useful as a convenient excuse to screen people completely from my personal life. Whether or not there is common ground to be found elsewhere, our incompatibility is made quite obvious by my almost total lack of concern for the outcome of the preeminent Sunday sporting event. I use this like a defensive barrier, the way that others employ religion (or the lack of it) for similar reasons. I have become quite satisfied over the years with my lack of alignment with this group. It is only occasionally that it becomes any sort of social problem for me, and even in these cases a negotiation is quickly struck.

When the Steelers won the Super Bowl a few years ago, I was overwhelmed by a sense of disgust in humanity. I considered it personally offensive that Burghers would prioritize something that had so little real significance (at least to me). I didn't understand yet how indelibly the team's success was wrapped into the self-identity of its fan base, and (as an extension) the region. Like virtually everyone I have ever met, I'm sometimes willfully ignorant of others, and consumed with myself. I put myself above such "irrational" loyalties, and I suppose I even adopted a condescending attitude toward those that (to borrow a term from a good friend) bought into "the construct".

The truth is that I've come to reconsider my views. I haven't yet decided to actively participate in following this team... but I will admit to having rooted for the Steelers for the first time in my entire life. They represent something to many of my closest friends, and to shit on their love for the team seems flagrantly disrespectful. I want to see my city happy, and if this is what it takes... well then so be it. It doesn't hurt that I have a newfound esteem for individual members of the Rooney family, who unaccountably turned out to share my political leanings. I'll happily disclose that their relationship with Barack Obama over the past year has been something I've appreciated substantially.

When I told one Terrible Towel-wielding fanatic about my change-of heart vis-a-vis the Steeler Nation, he responded that my reason was perhaps the worst he had ever heard. Although I stand by the original justification, I decided that it might be time to expand my rationalizations. Here's what I came up with: each Super Bowl victory the Pittsburgh Steelers win earns them one ring. Each ring opens up another seal. I'm sure you can follow the logic from there. In the mythology of this region, one more victory (by the year 2012) will allow a transmutation of the consciousness along the Three Rivers. I see this in something other than apocalyptic terms. The playing field has been expanded infinitely.

Pittsburgh Art Happenings: 1/30-31/09.

2009-01-29T10:32:00.006-05:00

Due to an unusual amount of chaos in my life, I haven't been entirely accurate in my predictions for what I might do during the weekends. I have listed a number of events over the past couple weeks that I may have had the best intentions of attending, only to find myself waylaid by life's surprises. But somehow I feel grounded if I continue to identify potential highlights, so I'm going to forge ahead and mention a few places where I may be found over the next couple of days.

Friday

If you didn't go to the opening reception for "The Big Hang-Up" at the Zombo Gallery, you do get another shot to see the work at the closing (6-11PM). Michael's happy about the nice turn out and some "groovy" sales, so it's an ideal time to drop by and say "hi!". Maybe you'll even run across Jason Woolslare, who I am told has been offered a future solo on the strength of the work he contributed to this show. And if you get bored, Stinky's is across the street.

Fe Gallery has finally moved on from the rigors of planning, organizing, and executing their huge survey of local art. Now the gallery features the work of just one artist- Joshua Space. I don't know what kind of work he does, and I can't find a lot of documentation on the web, so all I can do is alert your attention to the opening on Friday night from 7-9PM. At least you heard about it somewhere...

I haven't been to the Society for Contemporary Craft (2100 Smallman Street) in awhile. That's mostly due to the fact that their last exhibition opened more than six months ago. With that kind of manufactured anticipation, the joint reception (5:30-8:00PM) for Bridge 10 (the three solo exhibitions opening this month) carries an air of heightened importance. Robert Briscoe (clay), Tom Loeser (furniture) and Christina Y. Smith (small metals) are the featured artists.

Friday and Saturday

People that know me well are aware that I don't go to see films in theaters. You can't smoke, there is always someone nearby doing something irritating, and no one will pause the movie if you have to go to the bathroom. Why not stay home and watch something on your own terms? Occasionally there is something so compelling that I have to go out to see it, and it's usually a work that I have little hope of seeing issued on DVD. Such is the case with "Fear(s) of the Dark", a collection of animated shorts focused on presenting the disturbing, the thrilling and the haunting. I don't recognize many of the creators, but Charles Burns is among them. That alone justifies the $7 ticket price at Melwood Filmmakers in Oakland (showtimes 7:30 and 9:30 both nights). As a bonus, Bill Boichel (of Copacetic Comics) will be on hand live on Saturday to introduce the production.

Saturday

In these trying economic times, we can expect to see all sorts of different approaches to selling art in the Pittsburgh region. Joan Barenbregge over at Élan Gallery (427 Broad Street, Sewickley) has decided to forge ahead with a series of monthly art auctions. The first of the series occurs this weekend. Show up Saturday morning between 9-10AM to preview the work, and bid on your favorites from 10AM-3PM.

And finally... Encyclopedia Destructica is releasing their latest book: Make Your Own Truth, which contains work by Jonathan Brodsky, Juliacks, Paus Akid, Alberto Almarza, Josh Atlas, and Rick Gribenas. As a bonus they have included some prints documenting some pretty fancy powerpoint presentations. To celebrate this issuance, they have an event at the Regina Gouger Miller Gallery on the Carnegie-Mellon campus, starting at 5:30PM. Get there on time and you won't miss the presentation of their "Flying Destructucate Award" to the aforementioned Brodsky.

The Absurdity of a Late Lunch.

2009-01-28T17:57:00.007-05:00

Wednesday was the first time I ever ate cheese fries and chili dogs in an examination room at a gynecologist's office. Is that hard to believe? Maybe so, but it happened. Before you start wondering, I'll explain right off the bat that there wasn't any particular emergency. I could have stayed at home with E. (daycare was closed), but M. didn't want to drive on the icy roads, such as they were. So we all got bundled up for a cross-town jaunt to a hospital complex I had never even noticed. I can't say I was specifically enthused about going, yet it did make a certain kind of sense to have me behind the wheel. The main problem was my hunger, as I had chosen not to eat before we left. I had taken an early walk instead.

After we made it to the destination and found parking in the indoor garage, and checked in with the receptionist, I sat down and realized that I needed something to eat. The doctors were at lunch and we anticipated that it might be awhile before M. was in for her appointment. It was easily apparent that I was going to be cranky until I had something in my stomach. I got the go-ahead from M., and I didn't waste any time getting underway. I stepped outside onto Federal Street and looked for an eatery. I passed a fried fish-and-chips place, and decided quickly against stopping with the foresight that it would have been an alimentary disaster. The last thing I needed was to be sick for a couple more days.

Next I was tempted by a delectable image on an advertisement in the window of the Pizza Hut. Who knew that they now offered macaroni-and-cheese with REAL bacon? Unfortunately, after a quick surveillance, I realized that there was nowhere to sit while waiting for an order. Plus I had no idea what the hell else I could get to go along with the the mac-and-cheese. I don't like that chain pizza. My quandary deepened as I ran out of options on the "institutional" side of the street. I'd have to venture across Federal St. to the ramshackle independent "eateries" on the degraded side. Even getting over there was a bit of a hassle, with the rain and the sleet and the ice. I hit the opposite curb and skirted an open pit in the sidewalk.

There were four joints lined up in a row, as if the crumbling strip they inhabited meant to serve as a desperate bulwark against the corporate onslaught of homogenized "progress". And I felt a tiny bit guilty about my skepticism as I passed each in turn. These were the hauntings of the "Old North Side", their habitués presenting vague possibilities of danger in their poverty and "otherness". But surely employees at the hospital frequented these places as well? They looked dirty and unkempt under the gloom of the Pittsburgh winter. My appetite dictated that I make a quick choice and throw the weight of a potentially foolhardy confidence behind the search. As you already know, I chose a hot dog shop.

Ironically there were two businesses in that cluster that served hot dogs as the main attraction. My decision was based upon the way that the words "Steve's New York Style Hot Dogs" were painted on the window. They had a cleanly rendered traditional script that I found inviting. The cook was a young man of few words, and he was assisted by an older woman that spoke on the phone in alternating languages. The two worked methodically, and the food was simply prepared. How bad could it be? After what seemed like ten minutes, I grabbed my bagged lunch and went back to join M. in the waiting room. I had just set the messy conglomeration of junk on my lap when the nurse called us in. I managed to avoid spilling stuff everywhere.

Confirmation Hearings.

2009-01-27T20:19:00.000-05:00

To say that I have completely disengaged national politics since the election would be untrue. While I certainly don't spend nearly as much time following the intricacies in the halls of federal power as I did at the beginning of last autumn, I am still trying to keep my ear to the ground for the rumblings that may kick up significant dust. Barack Obama has now been president for a week, and I'm aware that he has indeed fulfilled his promise to get off to an active start. Michael Savage was on air last night trying to make the case that our new president is abusing his right to pass executive orders. He seems to think that the six times Obama has used the tool is some kind of record. I'm not going to do his homework for him by verifying the validity of the claim.

During Bush's reign there were a number of executive orders that generated controversy. It would be interesting to see an enterprising professional journalist do a side-by-side comparison of Bush and Obama in that regard. But lately my interest has been drawn more by the ongoing discussion about the President's cabinet appointees. The big three so far, as far as I'm concerned, have been Hillary Clinton, Tim Geithner, and Eric Holder. Hillary was bound to escape much of the nasty criticism and attention she might have drawn had she not been appropriated as the Conservative pundits' poster child for opposition to Obama's candidacy last year. Remember Operation Chaos and all those silly right-wingers with their 'I heart" Clinton sock puppets?

Meanwhile former president of the New York Federal Reserve Tim Geithner seemed like an incredibly cautious choice for Treasury Secretary. He was widely seen as non-partisan, and had significant support from many financial and political quarters. While he did draw some flak for his role as a key adviser in the Wall Street Meltdown Crisis, he managed to come off as an establishment guy that might just have the answers to get the nation out of the mess that had been brewing for years. No one expected anything else but a quick and uncomplicated Senate confirmation hearing that would be more ceremonial than investigative. And then information about Geithner's tax evasion in the early part of this decade came to light.

Geithner was able to weather the controversy, but he emerged into his position with more bruises than anyone really expected. Sure, it's a bit ironic to hear a bunch of Republicans whine about a guy who didn't particularly relish the idea of paying federal taxes, but this is more of an issue of strict adherence to rules than concordance of basic philosophies. Perhaps Geithner would be hailed as a hero (on the Right) for his past foibles if he were a Bush appointee? It's all a bit beside the point anyway, as he was ushered into the Obama administration officially by a 60-34 senate vote. Still he could end up being a black mark on the President's economic recovery program should things not work out in an ideal fashion (which they won't).

Now we can expect to see the Eric Holder saga taking center stage in the upcoming media cycle. Obama's nomination for Attorney General has been called on the carpet to justify his participation in the Clinton pardon of Democratic campaign contributor Mark Rich. A fact not likely to receive much media play is that Holder first attained the federal bench via appointment by former President Ronald Reagan. Similarly, conservative pundits and skeptics (like Arlen Specter) are likely to gloss over the fact that George W. Bush used Holder as the acting Attorney General in 2001, while awaiting the confirmation of super-dolt John Ashcroft. And finally, the same critics probably won't bring up Holder's encouragement of the strong independent counsel that Janet Reno set in motion, resulting in a an impeachment hearing for the last Dem president. Washington can always rely on an awfully short institutional memory.

And Round and Round I go....

2009-01-26T21:22:00.003-05:00

I have to step up and admit that I've lately become a bit of a slacker when it comes to the written word. In the first two years of keeping this blog, I think I missed posting on about six different days. That was in keeping with a structured goal I had in mind... I wanted to write 365 days straight. That was the sum total of my aims and ambitions with Serendipity. When I hit that standard, I felt like I had the momentum to keep it going, and I did so. It became a routine part of my daily life. There was something about the habit that grounded me to a certain way of living- call it the "examined life", if that's not too pretentious. It was a running commentary on my very existence.

Now I have accumulated something in the neighborhood of 930 posts. I'm pushing forward to a 'magical' four digit number as if it meant some kind of extraordinary achievement. But ultimately it's a completely arbitrary number. Let me just say that I have written a lot. If I had paper copies of all my entries, the sheer bulk of it would likely seem wondrous to me. And yet it's not so easy to figure out if the totality is in any way greater than the sum of the parts. It's never been particularly clear what value it all holds for either me or whatever readers have made a point of slogging through it. It has loomed over my life in some continually accruing mass. Perhaps it's become unwieldy.

If it sounds like I am mulling over the prospect of the end of Serendipity, then I guess my phrasing is doing its proper job. Nothing goes on forever. Before I even started this online stuff, I kept a written journal. Within it I kept a record of all the people I spent time with, and listed the activities that made up my day. I imagine that 90% of it would be interminably boring for a stranger to read. To be honest with you, I haven't reread much of it at all. Still I kept up that practice for years. Eventually I got to wondering about its purpose. It felt a bit like pissing in the wind. At the same time, its physical reality presented an artifact that could be picked up and read by anyone without the scruples to leave it alone.

I guess I started feeling like I wanted an audience. After I began the blog, I kept up with the journal-writing for awhile. But eventually the demands of both seemed overwhelming, and I stopped keeping a personalized account of my life. It was sad to let that go, but I was excited about the demands that writing for a public, anonymous audience entailed. I even had intentions of using this platform to publicize my artistic pursuits. Obviously the project morphed into something altogether different. Part of that had to do with the feeling that I had to protect myself by writing under a pseudonym. There are limits to this forum that sometime seem constraining.

I wanted to make every effort to avoid the kind of self-referential, introspective crap that you are reading right now. On the other hand, this is what I want to comment on. Part of me feels like I am increasingly at risk of repeating myself. The daily involvement with this blog has been an important part of the process for me. It has lent a structure and discipline to my writing that I wouldn't have acquired otherwise. Still, perhaps the process has outlived its utility. I'm really not sure yet. So why do I see a need to to incorporate these concerns into a post? One day (it could be soon, or years from now) Serendipity might just stop without warning. I hope when it does, it is with appropriate intention.

A World of Our Own Devising.

2009-01-23T16:11:00.000-05:00

Today I woke up in a strange state fueled by staying up past my bedtime last night. For some reason my left thumb felt jammed, as if it was jutting askew somehow while I slept. No doubt my mood was enhanced by whatever remnants of a sinus infection that remained with me. And then too, the dream I actually remember having was filled with tension, and my heart was racing for a good hour after I woke. I'm not in the habit of recalling the activities of my subconscious, especially those that originate in its most unfettered condition. Yet the images and the scenario rolling through overnight lingered like the afterimage of a flash bulb smack dab at the front of my brain.

In that dream I encountered a home invasion by some large creep that seemed familiar but was still wholly unrecognizable. He meant to kill me and I knew it. Different versions of the situation played themselves out one after another. Perhaps there was a large, sharp knife involved. I can say for a fact that I had the impression that this man was singularly demented. And each time it seemed I was rid of him, I had the feeling that he would be back. Of course, the dream state is a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy. If someone were to make one pause in the middle of the narrative, it would be no problem making an easy prediction of what would happen once back in the REM state.

Somewhere in the recesses of my youth, someone told me that if you die in your dream, then you risk doing the same in your daily life. I suspect it may have been Wes Craven who got that canard to stick. Obviously- if that were true, there would be legions of people dying nightly in their sleep for no good apparent reason. Maybe I was suspicious of this Old Wives' tale for awhile, but eventually I resolved to test the theory. I must have figured a cliche would be the safest way to find out for sure. I took a header off of some high place and fell and fell, and then made myself hit the solid surface at the bottom of whatever descent I had chosen. All it did was end the dream. I don't know if I woke up right away.

So I've experienced death on both sides in my shadow existence. Yes, I've made it a point to kill someone in a dream as well. That's probably the most appropriate and effective way to exorcise psychic demons. I recommend that you try it one day. Just prepare yourself ahead of time to compartmentalize. Whatever reverberations that emanate from that kind of violence will manifest themselves very differently in waking hours. There's no need for excessive stress or guilt. You didn't do anything wrong, because you make your own laws while you are alone with your dreams. And if you decide later on that you acted hastily or in a presumptuous manner, you can always bring your victim back.

Ultimately it's a matter of perspective. People don't realize the extent of control that they actually have. Remember that you have the prerogative to define backwards. History is always a retrospective, and there is no compelling reason to constrain yourself with narrow definitions. There's no way to get around the fact that we don't get to construct all of our own rules in our consensual reality. However, that doesn't mean that you have to let anyone else dictate your experiences during that one third (or so) of your life when you are asleep. The monsters will inevitably visit you... they may take any disturbing form you are able to imagine, but remember that they are of your own creation.

Pittsbugh Art Happenings: 1/23-24/09

2009-01-22T16:55:00.000-05:00

We're going to get a bit of a break in the weather, if we are to believe local weather forecasters. Perhaps the warmer temperatures will even stretch into Friday night. That would be ideal for those of you who have intentions of heading downtown tomorrow night for the seasonal Downtown Gallery Crawl. This time Cultural Trust organizers had the good sense not to plan their event to conflict with other First Friday activities around town. As a result, art appreciators don't have to make too many hard choices about what to miss. Naturally there are a few options that don't involve having to deal with the Golden Triangle- but if you plan it right, you may be able to hit them as well.

Friday

The Miller Gallery at CMU (Purnell Center for the Arts, 5000 Forbes Ave) hosts a "Winter Harvest Reception" (6-8PM) for Signs of Change: Social Movement Cultures 1960s, a collection of "posters, photographs, moving images, audio clips, and ephemera" documenting various international social movements spanning four decades. The exhibition is guest curated by Dara Greenwald + Josh MacPhee. In keeping with the spirit of the content, Artists Image Resource and the Andy Warhol Museum will be demonstrating live screen printing.

Downtown Gallery Crawl

During the last Crawl, Wood Street Galleries (601 Wood Street, above the "T") featured a line of people waiting outside the transit station for the elevator that provides the only access into the space. Despite the recommendations of several friends that said the work inside was "not to be missed", I refused to spend half of my night at one destination. Perhaps Chico MacMurtrie's 16 Birds and Inflatable Architectural Body won't present the same logistical nightmare. Having a look at his site, I kind of doubt it. Still, the images there do suggest that it would be worth a little bit of trouble to experience it in person.

Meanwhile, you can check out a survey of architectural images presented by the American Institute of Architects (AIA) at SPACE (812 Liberty Avenue). Those folks are encouraging visitors to come on down and vote for their favorite Pittsburgh buildings. 707 Penn has a sound installation comprised of remixes of Ramones tunes, and 709 Penn is offering Puppets, Wood Cuts, and Installation by Amy Trompetter. 937 Liberty has stuff on all three of its floors, including the Brew House Distillery Artists: A Sense of Place, photography by Tim Fabian and Bryan Conley, and a celebration of Latin American Culture (read: food! art! music!).

As always, there is lots of other stuff to stumble upon... much of which I have no comment on. I do want to mention ArtUp @820 Liberty, which is featuring Gritty 250: the Art of Work in Pittsburgh- ostensibly a recognition of this town's labor heritage.

Friday and Saturday

There's a relatively new venue in East Liberty that I have yet to attend. Art Dimensions Gallery (6000 Penn Avenue) has invited local artists to use vinyl records to create works for a juried show. Unlike most open calls for submissions, this solicitation included the prospect of winning prizes in two categories- paintings applied directly to the records and 3D or "multidimensional" creations incorporating vinyl. Festivities start tomorrow (from 3-8PM), including comedy, spoken word, and live musical performances. On Saturday evening (7PM-2AM) the prizes will be awarded, and there will be another full program of entertainment.

Sunday

Come on down to the Double Wide (2339 East Carson Street) at 9:30PM, to witness the postponed screening of Race with the Devil. I assure you... you don't want to miss this one.

Woe is Me.

2009-01-21T19:29:00.002-05:00

Last November I wrote a post about my experience staying home with Baby E. during the day. I noted how difficult it could be trying to figure out what he needs and when. If I was his full-time caretaker, I expect I would have already developed a kind of sixth sense for individualized maintenance. Perhaps I'd know how to decode his vocalizations, so that I could tell when he was hungry, tired, wet, or in pain. As it is, I'm confined mostly to a clumsy guesswork and my limited powers of perception. I can muddle through with process of elimination, and usually get him to stop crying about half the time. Otherwise he eventually gets so exhausted that he poops out. That's a very shallow victory.

As hard as it was several months ago to assume responsibility for E., it's been even harder during the last couple days. Because this time around I'm just as much (or more) sick than he is. Over this past weekend he developed nasty ear infections in both of his ears, and these afflictions caused him obvious pain that could only be addressed with baby Motrin. For those not familiar, this version of Ibuprofen is administered with an oral syringe. It must taste fairly good, because it's been extraordinarily easy to get E. to swallow it. The only real problem with the product is determining how much to give him. There is a chart on the packaging that lists doses for age and weight. Unfortunately our kid has already far outstripped the weight limitations.

Still, to some extent, this over-the-counter medication has been our salvation. Not only does it seem to take the edge off of E.'s suffering, but it also controls the fever spikes that he is vulnerable to with ear infections. No matter how many times a parent hears that he/she need not worry too much until baby's temperature hovers at 104 degrees, that's a hard number for us to process. I've had that high a reading when I was in college, and it meant that I was close to death. It seems like one more nasty trick devised to keep breeders anxious about their progeny. I'm not the type to necessarily get caught up in the "miracle of life", but I do find it amazing what these little beings can take.

If there's a single issue that has become particularly pressing, now that I have seen over a full year of my child's life, it is the daycare issue. The strains it places on child-rearing can be formidable in a number of ways. Obviously, first and foremost, there is the potentially prohibitive monetary cost. People have to make an assessment of their income streams to decide whether or not it makes more sense to have one parent stay at home, rather than spend around eight hundred dollars per month to have strangers look after their child in a group setting fraught with bacteria and resistant forms of virus. Given the state of the current economy, and projections for its future, stay-at-home parenthood is likely to experience a decline in frequency.

However, even once an adequate facility can be identified that meets minimum standards and falls within one's budget, parents still need to arrange some sort of backup for the occasion when their child is too sick to attend daycare. M. and I are both fortunate and unlucky when it comes to this requirement. Our sick days do accrue, and carry over from year-to-year. Although M. used all of her store after E. was first born, I still have a surplus left (meaning that I have now become the go-to nursemaid). But neither of us have family available locally to fill in the gaps when we can't take off, or are too sick to do a proper job ourselves. I can only imagine what single parents must go through trying to raise a kid in this day-and-age.

A Day in the Life of a Nation.

2009-01-20T07:34:00.005-05:00

By the time you read this, there will be a new President of the United States. It seems almost absurdly surreal to type that sentence and read it as it appears on the monitor. Personally, this fact alone would be cause for much satisfaction. I've made it pretty clear over the life of this blog that I've been no fan of George W. Bush. Just like the man himself said about a week ago, there have been disappointments during his two terms in office. That's a particularly egregious understatement- actually Bush's "disappointments" have helped foment this nation's impending depression. There is no way to encapsulate all that has happened over the last eight years. I'm sure all readers can make a list if they are so inclined.

Despite the administration's string of missteps staggered along this first decade of the Twentieth century, I have managed to advance my own life. The individualist strain of the American character certainly suggests that this is possible regardless of anything happening on the national stage. We're not supposed to make excuses for the trajectory of our own existences. I have been lucky enough to be able to take responsibility for my own outcomes. Yet while it is true that everyone has a degree of opportunity to chart his/her own course, I think it would be a mistake to imagine that all US citizens have been blessed equally. A cursory look through our country's history should clearly indicate otherwise.

Obviously social inequities have not been limited to factors such as race, gender, and ethnicity. I am a white man born of Christian extraction. That puts me within a demographic that has been historically most likely to reach the upper echelons of the power structure of the United States. However that doesn't mean that everyone with similar circumstances has the same potential. Some of the nation's poorest are to be found among those of Scots-Irish extraction living in the Appalachian region. I've driven through areas that feature tar paper shacks and outhouses. To see things like that is to doubt one's place in time. It's a mistake to draw conslusions about others simply based upon externally visible characteristics.

Still I can't help but acknowledge what Barack Hussein Obama's inauguration will mean to largely disenfranchised segments of the population. Walk into any public school history class, and you are likely to see a series of portraits representing every person ever to hold the presidency. It's hard to miss the homogeneity in their collective appearance. There are no women, no Latinos, no Asians, no Native Americans... nor are there any blacks. As strange as it may seem to those of us adults who sat in classrooms adorned with such images, the basic picture is going to change. And if an African-American can be added to the ranks of this club, then it seems to expand the range of possibility for everyone.

For me, today is probably not going to be substantially different than any other ordinary Tuesday. I'll follow my customary routine, and mark the passing of another workday. Unlike more than a million of my fellow countrymen/women, I'm not going to journey to DC to see the swearing in of our new Commander-in-Chief. I'm not going to join the crowds that are swelling the Capitol to witness this historical event. But like legions of folks dotting the American landscape, I'm going to devote some time to reflect upon this moment in our story. We are living through a time of extraordinary upheaval and challenge. Without succumbing to melodrama, it's possible to say that President Obama will have an unprecedented chance to make a difference.

Because I don't have enough to do...

2009-01-19T16:54:00.005-05:00

If you checked into Serendipity this past weekend hoping to see a post, I heartily apologize. And I'm almost (but not quite) embarrassed to explain to you the reason for that neglect. I joined a rather infamous "social networking" site early Friday morning (and by morning I mean Thursday night). I was gifted with a block of free time that I had not expected, and going out on "The-Day-That-Wasn't-a-Day-Until-It-Was"- Eve just wasn't compelling. So I found myself in front of the computer wondering what to kill some time with. Several of my friends had recently told me about their involvement with the aforementioned time-suck, and although I was warned against it, I gave into my lesser Gods and registered my own page.

I don't know if I opened Pandora's Box or plugged into a nodal web of useful and fun association, and I'm sure I won't be able to make that call for some unspecified period- but I can report having been drawn in by its novelty. Like most other people who have found themselves on this particular site, I never realized I had so many "friends". Don't get me wrong... I'm pleased. After all, I am a bit of an egoist. Let me bathe in a wave of validation at high tide. I recognize the forces that exist that make it recede in due course. I also realize that this process leaves all sorts of detritus washed up along the shoreline. It makes me think of folks bringing that shit home with them and trying to hear the sounds of the surf.

Anyway, enough of the flowery pseudo-poetics... the truth is that I have gotten the chance to touch base with people I haven't seen or talked to in years. That's worth something. Now if it actually results in a face-to-face with one of my old friends, then the effort will have been worth it. I've never bought into this kind of thing before. My eminently wise friend refers to this platform as "trite-book", and I can understand why. One part of me doesn't give a fuck what you are having for dinner. On the other hand maybe I can get you to send me some leftovers. I also believe this could be an effective way to get the word out about local events. We'll see. I'm not sure that people have realized the full capabilities of this crazy machine.

What I haven't given much thought to is what kind of information is being sold to sponsors of this operation. I don't understand the income streams with these online applications. No doubt the individual who invented this specific network is now very wealthy. But by what means? Alternatively, I get a kick out of imagining government agents trying to get useful data out of analyzing who is connected with who. There's no obvious ranking system to identify those relationships that are deeper or more meaningful than others. The guy you used to see at the corner bar fifteen years ago is interchangeable with your bestest friend. What does it actually mean that someone is on your list?

Ultimately this is one more tool with which to negotiate our increasingly complex existences. The purpose we attribute to it is internally generated. All the technology and access in the world will not be wholly sufficient in providing the depth and creativity necessary to make the difference in our lives. It can be the writing on the wall, or the piss in the pot, depending on our orientation. And finally, maybe it's nothing so novel at all. Perhaps this is just one more effort at tribalism... not that it's necessarily a "bad" thing. Sometimes it's nice to know who is on our "side", even if it such a superficial gesture.