An analysis of contemporary cultural by Douglas Coupland.
“But the analogy between television and liquor is best, I think. Because (bear with me a second) I’m afraid good old average Joe Briefcase might be a teleholic. I.e., watching TV can become malignantly addictive. It may become malignantly addictive only once a certain threshold of quantity is habitually passed, but then the same is true of Wild Turkey. And by “malignant” and “addictive” I again do not mean evil or hypnotizing. An activity is addictive if one’s relationship to it lies on that downward-sloping continuum between liking it a little too much and downright needing it. Many addictions, from exercise to letter-writing, are pretty benign. But something is malignantly addictive if (1) it causes real problems for the addict, and (2) it offers itself as relief from the very problems it causes. A malignant addiction is also distinguished for spreading the problems of the addiction out and in in interference patterns, creating difficulties for relationships, communities, and the addict’s very sense of self and spirit. In the abstract, some of this hyperbole might strain the analogy for you, but concrete illustrations of malignant TV-watching cycles aren’t hard to come by. If it’s true that many Americans are lonely, and if it’s true that many lonely people are prodigious TV-watchers, and if it’s true that lonely people find in television’s 2D images relief from the pain of their reluctance to be around real humans, then it’s also obvious that the more time spent watching TV, the less time spent in the real human world, and the less time spent in the real human world, the harder it becomes not to feel inadequate to the tasks involved in being a part of the world, thus fundamentally apart from it, alienated from it, solipsistic, lonely. It’s also true that to the extent one begins to view pseudo-relationships with Bud Bundy or Jane Pauley as acceptable alternatives to relationships with real people, one has commensurately less conscious incentive even to try to connect with real 3D persons, connections that are pretty important to mental health. For Joe Briefcase, as for many addicts, the Special Treat begins to substitute for something nourishing and needed, and the original genuine hunger– less satisfied than bludgeoned– subsides to a strange objectless unease.”
― David Foster Wallace, “E Unibus Pluram: Television and U.S. Fiction
Beirut- “Scenic World”
The lights go on
The lights go off
When things don’t feel right
I lie down like a tired dog
Licking his wounds in the shade
When I feel alive
I try to imagine a careless life
A scenic world where the sunsets are all
I’m still in love with Washed Out. His music just always perfectly fits my mood.
Washed Out- A Dedication
Artist Motoi Yamamoto first began creating salt labyrinths in 1994 after the death of his sister. Since then he has traveled all over the world building these intricate art works as temporary monuments as expressions of his memories of her. Traditionally, salt is used in Japanese culture for purification and mourning after the death of a loved one. Through his art Yamamoto’s grieves for his sister while giving beauty and life to the world.
If you’re in the L.A. area, be sure to check out his upcoming exhibit opening in September at the Laband Art Gallery. More info here.