8910. THINGS ARE DIFFERENT NOW, Pt. 251

251. THE QUEEN'S HOT DOG

I think that what bugs me

most  -  in today's world  -

anyway, is the way people

have been co-opted and have

let themselves be taken over

by everything else directed

at them. Everything is glib

and happy  -  or presented

that way. In 1967, in the

years I'm talking of here,

through my lens of the

Studio School and the

rest -  my Daniel Boone

moment setting out

through a strange city  -

there was, by contrast, a

dark blanket thrown over

everything. You 'knew,'

for instance, that cartoons

existed, but they were for

kids. Farmer Brown really

could hide behind skinny

trees, and cats really could

come out of faucets, but

that was kept away, aside;

everyone knew it was

a kid's thing, and left

it. Now, by contrast, and

only as example, you

have idiot adults swarming

a midtown Manhattan where

every ad-board, light-panel,

and even store-by-name are

'Cartoon.' A quality of pure

infantilism has crept in, and

been pressed on, whereby the

serious, dour world of adult

and adult concerns, and

philosophical motivations

and psychological presentations

have all been usurped. Billion-

dollar movie industries have

in the face of all the world's

problems, been erected which

peddle and continue this

dreck  -  and the wisest

and most cool among us,

supposedly, stay involved

and speak for it. People

worship their retarded

entertainment people.

Endlessly. What a dumb,

sick world. There is no

longer anything

introspective. Not even

in Art  -  which is where

I set out to be. It soon

enough lost its fervor

of mission for me as

I began realizing how

it too had been nearly

corrupted. Introspective

aspects of work and

design were beginning

to fall away to flippancy

and the ironic detachment

of comic distance. 'Look

at this all, how silly it is!'

That had become the

catchphrase. Like the

Monkees too.

-

Andy Warhol used to say,

as a form of dumb amazement

at the 'wonderful' world we

are presented with, that

a movie star could drink

the very same Coke that you

do, and that the Queen of

England couldn't get a

better hot dog at Yankee

Stadium than anyone else.

I suppose he meant that some

great equality of everything

had finally descended on the

consumerist paradise this

land had become (off of which,

of curse, he made millions

repeating it endlessly). His

notion of 'Democracy' sucked.

To him it somehow meant an

agreeable access to accessible

consumer goods for everyone.

Oh, just great  -  the problem

never was the access, it was

more, first off, the means of

access. I could NOT afford

the same Rolls Royce or

caviar that this 'Queen' could.

(Only Warhol would use

'Queen' so unself-consciously).

It was not just about the

'access.' I too can watch

Chinese TV, but I wouldn't

understand a word. The

disparity of both wealth

distribution, and purchasing

power, and the conscious

awareness of that, makes

the difference. The rabble

in the street are just the

'rubble.' The rich remain

the rich. Like that current

dumb-ass statue of Ralph

Kramden  -  in the previous

chapter, at Port Authority

Bus Terminal  -  it makes

the 'assumption' by those

that be (in power, or ruling)

that their selective input

into your life, all as

approved, will reflect

reality, and not be offensive.

For instance, I could not put

up a statue of, say, Verlaine,

or Rimbaud, or even Walter

Scott. They pre-date

everything, here, and no

one makes the connection,

but they 'represent', as well.

something 'other.' How many

actually know or care about

who Ralph Kramden is/was,

or Jackie Gleason, is beyond

me, but that never matters.

Idiots attract.  Here's the deal :

'the universal modifications

in the fabric of daily life each

transform novelty items into

constant and utilitarian objects

that we then have no choice

about. They alter our temporal

dimension in radical ways,

bringing us ever closer to

the usurpation of consciousness

by our incremental transformation

into automata.' Kind of means,

they got you by the balls.

-

That's what I objected to. All

that 'same' consumption of goods

and all that 'same' thinking and

habits of use : no distinction

between you and me. Transiency,

redundancy, an entire mass

unconscious being messed

with. That's pretty evil. I

stayed clear.  Today's morons,

gathered around that statue,

gaze at it, unfocused, not even

sure what they're looking at

IF they even see it. The tourists

from Dubuque, they go 'Aw!',

and smile, and take photos

gathered around it  - arms on

it like some best friend.

Boyfriends and girlfriends

kiss at it for their photos.

It's (literally) mind-numbing

and a really bad display, as

well, of all the rest of the

Times Square gibberish

just to the east. This was

once America, a place of

standards and values, with

a traditional reverence (or

at least I had it) towards

all those writers and artists

and strugglers who came

through here : darkness, with

an intensity. I hold my  hands

out to William Carlos Williams,

not Ralph Kramden; sorry.

-

Down to Chinatown, and 

it's sort of the same thing, 

maybe a little in reverse. 

Even weirder. They tore 

down, in the late 60's

and early 70's, a large 

swath of things in order, 

near to Canal St., and

the Bowery, to erect what's

called Confucius Plaza. 

It's very strange, especially 

because, first, no one

seemed to care, and

everyone just let

themselves get plowed 

over and pushed around,

by the usual 'interest' 

groups and Chinese 

Benevolent Societies

in bed with the usual 

city authorities, to then

re-make and thematically 

alter their own central

Chinatown crossroads.

But what was even weirder

than that was the 'retro'

aspect of all this. Confucius

was in dis-favor  -  not just 

in China, but everywhere. 

His old, very traditional, 

filled with protocol and 

ancestor-worship approach

to things by then had

been relegated to the 

junkheap. It was as if,

perhaps, a monument 

to Cuneiform chiseling 

were to be erected at 

the site of some Johannes

Gutenberg printing plant 

headquarters. It was

that different  - from the

cultural and consumer 

ethos of the present, from

the now (then). There was

a large, very oversize statue,

a center plaza post, flags,

granite, inscriptions. and

seats. Whoever they thought

would be attending to this,

they never showed up  -  that

plaza now is a dead-man's

traffic island with little sense

of place or purpose. 

-

People have been 

somehow 'equalized' by 

all their everyday habits  

all those phones and

messages and tweets 

and posts and computers 

and games. Everything's 

been lost when some 
current fake-media 
wanna-be (I only use as 
an example, and am, in
fact, not really even

sure what that is) gets

presented as the  'same'

thing for me as for you.
As if we all must be 'in'
 on the know, and each in

the same, glib/stupid way.
Same for you, same for me
Just like the Queen's 
hot dog. (Huh?)...