Getting What You Deserve!

Preceeding 2002 – Before Subsidization
2002 – Year of the Whopper
2003 – Year of the Tucks Medicated Pad
2004 – Year of the Trial-Size Dove Bar
2005 – Year of the Perdue Wonderchicken
2006 – Year of the Whisper-Quiet Maytag Dishmaster
2007 – Year of the Yushityu 2007 Mimetic-Resolution-Cartridge-View-Motherboard-Easy-To-Install-Upgrade For Infernatron/InterLace TP Systems For Home, Office, Or Mobile (sic)
2008 – Year of the Dairy Products from the American Heartland
2009 – Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment
2010 – Year of Glad
from David Foster Wallace’s “Infinite Jest”

How’s the wife? Is she at home enjoying capitalism? – Zippy

I’ll try to be brief as you’re busy considering how Martin Amis hydrates.

Yesterday’s family quality time consisted of Mom taking a nap with the cats while Alaska Wolf Joe and I watched Cat Woman and Dr. Sonambula’s ongoing attempts to bilk noodle magnate, J. Pauline Spaghetti out of $200 million. At one point they almost get away with it while Batman is detained by a rookie cop attempting to put a parking ticket on the Bat Mobile. The ticket is torn up in what can only be described as a relativistic application of the law. This lead Alaska Wolf Joe to sask, “Is there any kind of ciritical study of all this? Has anybody tried to dissect this crap?”

A cursory glance at what our former president called, “Th’ Google” show that it has, 14 Miles to Gotham City

As the blurb says:

From 1966-1968, on both ABC and in movie theatres, America embraced Batman as a campy cultural icon. The nation thrilled to deathtrap cliffhangers and phrases like “Atomic batteries to power!” and “Same bat-time, same bat-channel!” But in the ensuing decades, many vilified the show as an embarrassment that needed to be swept under the rug if Batman — and super-heroes — were to be taken seriously. Having won this battle for legitimacy, perhaps we can now return to Adam West’s Gotham, to the unapologetic fun of colorful, cackling villains hatching bizarre schemes, and deadpan heroes ridiculously climbing walls. And perhaps we may find it not only fun but rich with deeper cultural meanings.

This then lead me to ask, what are we to do with Phoenix Jones?

To borrow a phrase – for those of you just tuning in, Mr. Jones is a self-proclaimed costumed defender of the streets of Seattle. While he is able bodied and ready he is also easily repelled by a woman’s size-seven shoe. It’s all the more curious that a hero so easily done in would attract a super nemesis, Rex Velvet.

In my mind the only way to rectify all this is to stop thinking of Mr. Jones as a a crime prevention advocate and instead consider him to be one of the many concept artists living in Seattle. That way we can see Mr. Velvet not as an actual criminal but an act of reciprocal art.

Put another way – what you create artistically can come back to you as an artistic statement. For an example we need look no further than this week’s various recaps of the 24-hour long German production of David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest. As Aaron Weiner wrote said on Slate:

True to the novel, quite a few of the play’s scenes have gone on far too long. But length is half the point. This isn’t entertainment in the traditional sense. It’s Wallace-style capital-E Entertainment, whose primary purpose isn’t to bring enjoyment—though it can be enjoyable—but to captivate, to incapacitate, like the novel’s deadly eponymous film whose viewers are so thoroughly entertained that they cease to eat, drink, sleep and, eventually, live. There weren’t, as far as I could tell, any casualties the day I took this infinite theater tour, though a good number of my 150 fellow travelers dropped out before the sun came up. As with the novel, the play was very much a test of endurance.

Faithfulness to the material while putting in a form that it was never intended for is a type of artistic reciprocity. Therefore – size-seven shoes aside- Mr. Jones endeavors can be reduced to art given that the only real attention he attracts is from a man very obviously playing a role.

Which is not to say that my idea of artistic reciprocity is not without flaws.

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