“Bindschädler, at three, four, five one lives off the images, the thoughts one has inherited, as a dowry for life. — At sixty-three, -four, -five one walks along a river of a Saturday, declares it North American, feels its gray, orange, yellow tones as Indian tones, hallucinates a canoe on it, with the last Mohican inside, crowned with two, three colorful feathers. And one understands, glancing at the oaks by the river, that the Germanic tribes revered oaks. And one looks back on the decades of duties fulfilled as a citizen,” Baur stumbled, “that is, on decades when one produced shoes for example, rifles, made bricks, tiles, bicycles, cars, television sets, and so forth, or made oneself useful in some other way, focusing on punctually observing the start of the workday, the end of the workday, above all the start. And one remembers having tried to keep body and limbs clean all those years, the dirtying oneself that comes from inside and that comes from outside, from the street for example, from the lathe, from jam, to get rid of it, also the dirt between the toes and other parts. And you think of the Eau de Cologne you poured in your left hand to spread on your cheeks, neck, nape, forehead. And you think of the Eau de Cologne you poured in your right hand to spread on your cheeks, neck, nape, forehead. You see again the clothes that you put on, all those years; you see particularly the pants, and of these especially the legs, which couldn’t be too long or too wide …” A night in which all cows are black still has cows. If I see one more arty photograph of a supposedly anonymous ranch house I’ll scream. The whole feng shui flutters around me. Hell, it’s time we listen to our hickish selves more clearly, most clearly. Look into my eyes, amiga, and speak. Heaven is already here, if you want it. Good Lawd, that cheap beer must be kickin’ in. A portly dude eases a buck into the juke box, prods Los Tigres del Norte to sing, “Salierón de San Isidro, procedentes de Tijuana.” This is a Korean-American owned bar, by the way. Here, a plate of rice and bulgogi is only $3.99. She says, “I actually have never read Ana Božičević, although I hear she is good. What do you recommend by her? Also, still thinking about siluteas, have you ever seen this image by Francesca Woodman? Her photographs are amazing. What about Capitalism and Schizophrenia? ‘An economy is a system of apparently willing but actually involuntary exchanges. A family, for example, is really a shop front, a glass plate open to the street.’” Anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death. Although I have always been interested in the Anthropocene, my fascination with its artifacts grew when I accepted a teaching position in the School of Art and Design at West Virginia University and moved to “The Mountain State” — or what West Virginia’s former governor and now senator, Joe Manchin, has lovingly called “The Extraction State.” Here, it is obvious that not only have the surface and ecology of mountains changed because of deforestation, but entire topographies have morphed in a geologic instant as a product of large-scale mountaintop removal mining (MTR).
[Note: Sources: Gerhard Meier, Isle of the Dead (tr. Burton Pike) (muchas gracias Omo Bob); either Timothy Morton or Mikhail Emelianov, as quoted in Emelianov’s “On Sheer Madness of Tim Morton”, at Perverse Egalitarianism, 23 Nov 012; Carol Diehl, as quoted in Hrag Vartanian, “Required Reading, at Hyperallergic, 23 Dec 012; Bianca Stone, “Pulling the Sun”, as quoted in Melissa Broder, “Sunday Service: Bianca Stone Poem”, at HTMLGIANT, 23 Dec 012; Linh Dinh, “The End”, at Detainees, 23 Dec 012; JBR; Ivy Johnson, Johnson quoting Deleuze & Guattari, Bhanu Kapil, “Tribal solstice”, at Was Jack Kerouac a Punjabi?, 23 Dec 012; William S Burroughs, as quoted in “Christmas Countdown: #07”, at The Other Room, 19 Dec 012; Erika Osborne, Exposing The Anthropocene: Art And Education In The ‘Extraction State’”, in Making the Geologic Now: Responses to Material Conditions of Contemporary Life (eds. Elizabeth Ellsworth and Jamie Kruse)]