Always Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth

 

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth  

by TragicKittens on redbubble.com

 

 

I. 

 

One of the proverbial expressions I would advise people to consider carefully is: Never look a gift horse in the mouth [1]. 

 

Those who like to use this phrase think it impolite to treat a gift as one would a purchase by checking for flaws or critically considering the quality. One should, rather, accept the gift with good grace and gratitude and not question the giver's generosity. 

 

However, this displays a certain moral naivety. Because the giving of gifts is rarely an innocent act and should always be understood (at least in part) within the context of power, politics, and seduction ... 

 

 

II. 

 

Within the general economy of potlatch, for example, an individual expresses their sovereignty not by accumulating wealth but by giving it away; by their ability to endure loss and to place themselves outside of a restricted economy of utility. Their prestige is thus a form of symbolic power built upon contempt for riches and self-preservation.    

 

But the giving of a lavish gift, according to Bataille, is also an act of aggression and rivalry; a challenge to the recipient to either accept their indebtedness and social inferiority, or to reciprocate with an even more excessive gift. In other words, in accepting a gift, one is placed under an obligation [2].     

 

 

III. 

    

Jean Baudrillard considers the gift in somewhat different terms; namely, as an object with a purely symbolic value able to disrupt a system of commodity exchange based upon economic logic. The giving of an object of this kind allows the giver to turn the tables on a powerful subject; to confuse and disconcert them, so that they no longer know what to think or how to act. 

 

Recall, if you will, the case of the young woman who is amorously pursued by a wealthy older man who repeatedly tells her that her eyes are the most beautiful thing about her and has flowers delivered daily to her house. In the end, she sends him of one of her eyes in a little box tied with a lovely ribbon, the violence of the act leaving him shocked and speechless. 

 

For Baudrillard, this is an act of seduction (with the latter understood to be an ironic and fatal game of signs that divorces a subject from its power, rather than the persuasive play of desire). By taking the man's metaphorical fascination with her eyes literally and returning the object of his desire, she destroys the possibility of a normal romantic exchange of gifts and asserts her own sovereignty [3].  

 

  

Notes

 

[1] Saint Jerome popularised this proverb by including it in his commentary on Ephesians around 400 AD as the Latin phrase Noli equi dentes inspicere donati.

 

[2] See Volume I of Bataille's The Accursed Share, trans. Robert Hurley (Zone Books, 1991), where he develops his theory of general economy and discusses the notion of potlatch.  

 

[3] I might be mistaken, but I believe that Baudrillard refers to this story on several occasions in his work and each time gives a slightly different version. See, for example, Fatal Strategies, trans. Philip Beitchman and W. G. J. Niesluchowski (Pluto Press, 1999), pp. 120-21. 

 

 

Notes from the Labyrinth on Picasso and the Minotaur

Picasso becoming-minotaur

Photo by Edward Quinn (1959) 

 

'If you marked on a map all of the routes I've made and connected the dots 

with a single line, might not a Minotaur emerge?' - Picasso 

 

I. 

 

Yesterday, I finally got along to the exhibition of ceramics and works on paper by Picasso at the Halcyon Gallery [1], featuring over 130 original pieces, which essentially confirm something that even his critics and detractors know deep down; namely, that Picasso was the greatest artist of the 20th century.   

 

As much as I loved his works, however, I think my favourite image was a photograph by Edward Quinn taken of Picasso masquerading as the Minotaur in his studio in 1959 ... 

 

 

II. 

 

Picasso was obsessed with this taurean figure from Greek mythology, who was famously part man and part bull, and dwelt at the centre of the Labyrinth [2]. 

 

The Minotaur became a powerful symbol of desire, violence, and horror in Picasso's artwork and some authors like to imagine that he also served as Picasso's alter-ego, embodying the cruelty, lust, and virile vulnerability present in his own character and complex personal life [3]. 

 

But of course, Picasso wasn't the only artist who identified in terms of the Minotaur; many of the Surrealists (and associated artists) in the 1930s were also fascinated by this mythical monster, which is why when, in 1933, a title was needed for a new magazine Bataille suggested Minotaure and his pal André Masson excitedly agreed to design a cover for the first edition. 

 

But then Picasso - ever alert to what was going on and not slow in cheerfully stealing ideas and jumping on the lastest trend - co-opted the idea of the Minotaur and, with André Breton's support, not only produced an elaborate image for the magazine's cover, but also supplied four other drawings to be used, insisting that the lead article, to be written by Breton, promoted his vision of the Minotaur.    

 

Whether this makes Picasso the 'fat little magpie' that Adam and the Ants once described him as, or just someone with a genius for seizing the moment and self-promotion (a bit like David Bowie), I'll let readers decide [4]. 

 

 

III. 

 

Despite being published rather irregularly (due to financial considertions), Minotaure (1933-39) proved to be a great success and had a wide circulation in most European countries. 

 

Far superior in quality to most other arts magazines of the period, it was beautifully illustrated and had covers by prominent artists including Matisse, Miró, and Dalí. Not only did it contain articles on the plastic arts and literature, but also music, theatre, philosophy, psychoanalysis, anthropology, esotericism and all things avant-garde. 

 

Whilst not originally intended to be a surrealist publication per se, Breton and his chums on the editorial committee naturally exerted a huge (and ever-increasing) influence on it and Minotaure became a significant element in Surrealism's rise from a relatively obscure circle of poets, artists, and intellectuals in the 1920s to a major movement of 20th century art. 

 

 

Minotaure (Issue 1 - June 1933) 

Cover by Picasso

 

  

Notes

 

[1] Picasso: A Legacy (16 Oct 2025 - 4 Jan 2026) at the Halcyon Gallery (148 New Bond Street, London, W1): for further information and to view selected works, click here. 

 

[2] The Labyrinth was an elaborate maze-like construction designed by Daedalus and his son Icarus, acting upon command of King Minos of Crete. Every nine years the people of Athens were forced to choose seven noble youths and seven beautiful virgins to be offered as sacrificial victims to the Minotaur. He was eventually slain by the Athenian hero Theseus.  

 

[3] See, for example, John Richardson, A Life of Picasso: Volume IV: The Minotaur Years 1933-43 (Jonathan Cape, 2022).

 

[4] To be fair to Picasso, it's not as if he stole an original idea from Bataille and Masson; the Ancient Greek legend of the Minotaur had been popular for some years in intellectual circles and had already been referenced in the work of several other writers and artists. 

      The Adam and the Ants song I'm referring to is 'Picasso Visita el Planeta de los Simios', which can be found on the Prince Charming album (CBS, 1981) and played on YouTube by clicking here.     

 

  

In Defence of Torpedo the Ark

Torpedo the Ouroboros (SA/2026) 

 

 

I. 

 

It didn't take long into the New Year before a familiar critique resurfaced (from a familiar source): 

 

I've noticed how an increasing number of posts on Torpedo the Ark rely upon the recycling of extant material and fear that, if you are not careful, then you will end up like the snake that swallows its own tail - a symbol which might mean different things within various esoteric traditions, but by which I refer to an author unable to generate original insights and so engaging in an act of self-cannibalism, allowing a once excellent blog to become trapped in a doom loop of nostalgia and pastiche. [1]

 

 

 

II. 

 

I don't know if that's a fair criticism to make: it's certainly not entirely accurate. For one thing, my critic mistakes the vital process of autophagy for the pathological condition of autosarcophagy. 

 

Unlike the latter, which is often linked to severe mental and cultural disorder [2], the former is a highly regulated process necessary for good health and hygiene (homeostasis); a bit like dreaming, whereby the mind preserves order by purging psychic detritus during sleep [3].

 

Obviously, TTA refers on occasion to its own history and, yes, there is a strong degree of thematic recurrence as I return to established areas of interest and favoured authors and this may create a sense of circularity. Nevertheless, I like to think that when I reimagine and recontextualise old ideas and images, I do so in an active manner and in a way that does not risk my becoming-Ouroboros [4].

 

Ultimately, what is a doom loop of nostalgia and pastiche to one man is the laughter of genius to another and my temporal objective has always been to challenge the idea of time as a straightline that leads from the past into the present and thence into the future and any recycling is part of this deconstructive strategy rather than a sign of intellectual fatigue. 

 

Those who accuse TTA of idealising the past or furthering what Mark Fisher described as the slow cancellation of the future [5] have, I'm afraid, missed the point.             

  

 

Notes

 

[1] Extract from an email I received this morning (2 Jan 2026) from a correspondent happy to be quoted, but who wishes not to be identified. 

 

[2] Those interested in autocannibalism as a cultural phenomenon, may like to see Jean Baudrillard, Carnival and Cannibal, trans. Chris Turner (Seagull Books, 2010), in which an analysis is given of the West's fatal penchant for consuming and absorbing its own values and histories (and not only those of other peoples). 

 

[3] I'm taking the Lawrentian position put forward in Fantasia of the Unconscious (1922). See the post 'Sleep and Dreams' (6 Feb 2015): click here. 

 

[4] Like D. H. Lawrence, I'm not a fan of 'him with his tail in his mouth' - see the post dated 16 August, 2016: click here.  

 

[5] See the section on this idea in Fisher's Ghosts of My Life (Zero Books, 2014). I published a three-part post on this work back in November 2023: click here to access the first part on 'Lost Futures'.  

 

 

New Year's Day: I've Said It Before and I'll Say It Again ...

TTA New Year's Day Postcard (SA/2026)*

 

 

Here we are on the first day of the New Year and I find that, like Oliver Hardy in Dirty Work (1933), I have nothing to say ... 

 

That being the case, I thought it might be fun to republish half-a-dozen posts from years gone by dated January 1st ...

 

 

Panem et Pyrotechnics (1 Jan 2014)

 

Fireworks, as Oscar Wilde observed, have one big advantage over the stars; namely, you always know precisely when they are going to appear in the sky. 

 

But public firework displays - no matter how spectacular - soon bore and disappoint and one can't help wondering at the politics of the event and the psychology of people who stand in the cold gazing upwards with their mouths open, fascinated by bright lights and loud bangs; content to obey their leaders for another twelve months thanks to the promise of panem et pyrotechnics. 

 

New Year's Eve makes North Koreans of us all ... 

 

 

A Nietzschean Message for the New Year (1 Jan 2015) 

 

For me, the greatest and most touching of new year blessings and resolutions remains the one with which Nietzsche opens Book IV of The Gay Science (written January, 1882): 

 

'Today, everybody permits themselves the expression of their dearest wish. Hence, I too shall say what it is that I most desire - what was the first thought to enter my heart this year and what shall be for me the reason, guarantee, and sweetness of my life henceforth. I want increasingly to learn to see as beautiful what is necessary in things, so that I may become one of those who makes things beautiful: amor fati - let that be my love from now on!'

 

 

Happy New Year From the Ghost of Jean Baudrillard (1 Jan 2018) 

 

When asked during an interview in January 2006 what it meant to wish someone Happy New Year, Baudrillard amusingly replied that it was 'a collectively remote-controlled symbolic ritual that has its place in a [...] cost-free sphere'. 

 

In other words, an empty gesture without value; a seasonal greeting from another time which, just like Merry Christmas, tries to desperately recreate a social bond or, more accurately, evoke nostalgia for such, via an exchange of disintensified signs. All the high days and holidays that we so want to enjoy and make special, invariably leave us feeling lonely and inadequate; hostages to our own lives of consumption. 

 

Having said that, Baudrillard hates to be thought of as a pessimist or a nihilist in the pejorative sense of the term. And he does, in fact, still anticipate that there might be an element of radical newness in times to come; a counter-force lodged within the present that's the source of future ambivalence; a catastrophic force that enables individuals to change established forms and punch holes in the order of things; an unverifiable force which, inasmuch as it has 'nothing to do with consciousness, common sense or morality', we might simply call evil. 

 

And so, in wishing readers a Happy New Year, I suppose I'm wishing them the courage to become complicit with l'intelligence du mal. 

 

 

Reflections on a Rose and a New Year's Resolution (1 Jan 2019)

  

New Year's Day: the world of my little garden forever undying. Roses, stained with the blood of Aphrodite, bloom and make happy. Sometimes, I think it would be nice to remain alone with the flowers and do nothing but quietly reflect upon their perfection. 

 

But then, after a few minutes, I realise that not only is such a life impossible, it's also undesirable; that one's main duty as a Lawrentian floraphile is to actively shelter the rose of life from being trampled on by the pigs. Thus, I resolve to 'go out into the world again, to kick it and stub my toes. It is no good my thinking of retreat: I rouse up and feel I don't want to. My business is a fight, and I've got to keep it up.' 

 

 

Why You Should Never Wish a Happy New Year to a Nietzschean (1 Jan 2023)

 

I don't know the origin of the zen fascist insistence on wishing everyone a happy new year, but I suspect it's rooted in the 18th-century, which is why in 1794 the Archange de la Terreur - Louis de Saint-Just - was able to proclaim: Le bonheur est une idée neuve en Europe ... 

 

Such a new idea of happiness - one concerned with individual fulfilment in the here and now and realised in material form, rather than a deferred condition of soul which awaits the blessed in heaven - had already become an inalienable right of citizens in the United States, although whether Jefferson was inspired by the English empiricist John Locke - or by the French philosophe Jean-Jacques Rousseau - is debatable. 

 

Either way, the pursuit of happiness was declared a self-evidently good thing that all Americans should uphold and practice; for ensuring the greatest happiness of the greatest number was, as Jeremy Bentham wrote the mark of a truly moral and just society.

 

The problem, however, for those who take Nietzsche seriously, is that this positing of happiness in its modern form as the ultimate aim of human existence makes one contemptible; the kind of person who only seeks their own pleasure and safety, avoiding all danger, difficulty, or struggle. 

 

Nietzsche wants his readers to see that suffering and, yes, even unhappiness, play an important role in life and culture; that greatness is, in fact, more often than not born of pain and sorrow. This is why his philosophy is a form of tragic pessimism. And this is why it's ironically insulting to wish a Nietzschean happy new year ...

 

 

Nothing Changes on New Year's Day (1 Jan 2024) 

 

I don't like - and have never liked - the Irish rock band U2. 

 

But that isn't to say they haven't written some fine songs, including 'New Year's Day', which contains the killer line: Nothing changes on New Year's Day - a line which counters all the mad optimism of those gawping at fireworks, popping champagne corks, and singing 'Auld Lang Syne' without any idea of what the phrase means. 

 

Often, these are the same people who criticise others for being despairing about the past or present and who insist on being hopeful for the future - even though the expectation of positive outcomes with respect to temporal progress seems entirely groundless. 

 

I don't want to sound too diabolical, but it seems to me that the phrase lasciate ogni speranza written above the gates of Hell is actually a sound piece of advice. For Nietzsche may have a point when he suggests that it is hope which prolongs the torments of man and is thus the most evil of all evils. 

 

* One of six designs in the official TTA postcard range, available as a set for just £29.99.

 

 

Goodbye to 2025: The Year of the Octopus

Image by Jack Forbes / New York Post (2024) [1]

 

 

I. 

 

Due a mild winter followed by an exceptionally warm spring, record numbers of octopuses have abandoned their Mediterranean homes and taken up residence along England's south coast. 

 

So many in fact, that approximately 233,000 were caught in UK waters this year - over ten times the average amount - and 2025 has been declared as the year of the octopus by the Wildlife Trusts in their annual review of what's going on in the marine world. 

 

This is not entirely unprecedented, however: a sudden increase in the population of the common octopus - known as a bloom by teuthologists and cephalophiles such as myself - was also observed in 1950 and, prior to that, in 1900. 

 

This is, on balance, welcome news (although not if you're a Cornish lobster or Devon crab) and I find it comforting to imagine a time - long after the extinction of man - when octopuses rule the world; a future possibility that, whilst speculative in nature, is one that many scientists are taking increasingly seriously ...

 

 

II.     

 

Tim Coulson, for example, a professor of zoology at the University of Oxford, argues that if humanity were to fall into the evolutionary void, then the octopus, thanks to its physical and mental attributes, is in pole position to become the dominant species on the planet. 

 

For these eight-legged animals are not only highly intelligent, but also possess, says Coulson, the dexterity, curiosity, and ability to communicate with each other that may one day allow them to make complex tools and, who knows, build a deep-sea civilisation [2].  

 

Coulson even advances the possibility that octopuses might - under the right circumstances and environmental conditions - eventually evolve into animals capable of spending at least some of their time on land in a post-human (and, in all likelihood, post-mammalian) world, although the lack of a skeleton and lungs with which to breathe would obviously be serious hurdles to overcome.    

 

As mentioned, this is all highly speculative and we've really no way of knowing what evolutionary surprises the future will produce millions of years from now. 

 

But it would be unwise to bet against the octopus playing some part in this future; for this is a creature with an evolutionary history behind it stretching back to a time pre-dating the dinosaurs, so they're obviously adaptable and prepared to play the long game. 

 

And I for one say better a world of octopuses than a world of intelligent machines ...   

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Illustration for an article by Brooke Kato, 'This captivating sea creature could dominate Earth if humans become extinct', in the New York Post (15 Nov. 2024): click here. 

      For those interested in knowing more about Jack Forbes and his artwork, visit his website: jackforbesportfolio.com

 

[2] This isn't as far-fetched as some readers might think; there are, in fact already two established octopus settlements that we know of; Octopolis (discovered in 2009) and Octlantis (discovered in 2016). 

      While the latter was constructed entirely from natural materials (sand and shells), the former incorporated scrap metal into its design. Both are located in Jervis Bay, New South Wales, Australia, and are home to a small number of gloomy octopuses (Octopus tetricus). The existence of these sites challenged the previous belief that octopuses were solitary creatures and revealed a surprising level of social interaction, as well as environmental engineering. 

 

B.B. R.I.P.

Brigitte Bardot with a pink bath towel in 1959 

Photo by Sam Levin

 

 

I. 

 

The French film actress, singer, and animals rights activist Brigitte Bardot has died, aged 91, and, like many people around the world, I mourn her passing. 

 

For Bardot remains one of those names beginning with the initial 'B' that mean a great deal to me and who act as a kind of guiding spirit to Torpedo the Ark [1].

 

 

II. 

 

As is often the case these days when somebody famous - and, in Bardot's case, truly iconic - dies, everyone seems compelled to pay tribute on social media; thus French President Emmanuel Macron, for example, writes that B.B. embodied a life of freedom. 

 

By which I guess he refers to the fact that Mme. Bardot followed her inclinations and didn't give a damn about what others thought of her; nor was she afraid to express her views on all kinds of issues, including political questions. 

 

For me, however, the most insightful and philosophically-interesting words written on Bardot - as a figure within the pornographic imagination rather than as a woman in real life - remain those written by Simone de Beauvoir in 1959, when the former was billed as the world's most outrageously sensual film star and the latter recognised as France's leading female intellect. 

 

De Beauvoir helps us understand why Bardot was regarded by some as a monument of immorality - a New Eve for the post-War world:

 

"Seen from behind, her slender, muscular, dancer's body is almost androgynous. Femininity triumphs in her delightful bosom. The long voluptuous tresses of Melisande flow down to her shoulders, but her hair-do is that of a negligent waif. The line of her lips forms a childish pout, and at the same time those lips are very kissable. She goes about barefooted, she turns her nose up at elegant clothes, jewels, girdles, perfumes, make-up, at all artifice. Yet her walk is lascivious and a saint would sell his soul to the devil merely to watch her dance." [2]

 

 

III. 

 

De Beauvoir closes her little study of Bardot by expressing her hope that the bourgeois order will not find a way to silence her, or compel her to speak lying twaddle: "I hope that she will not resign herself to insignificance in order to gain popularity. I hope she will mature, but not change." [3]

 

I think she'd be pleased to know that Bardot didn't compromise; that she remained one of the most liberated spirits in all France and a real force for change; a woman who, in her own words, gave her youth and beauty to men, but her wisdom and experience to animals.  

  

Notes

 

[1] The others being Baudelaire, Bataille, Barthes, and Baudrillard; see my A-Z of Torpedophilia (24 October 2013): click here.  

 

[2] Simone de Beauvoir, Brigitte Bardot and the Lolita Syndrome (Four Square Books / The New English Library, 1962). 

 

[3] Ibid.

 

 

To read the original post in which I discuss Simone de Beauvoir's analysis of Bardot (published 16 May 2018) click here for part one and here for part two. 

 

 

Three musical bonuses: 

 

(i) To play Serge Gainsbourg's 'Initials B.B.' - a single from the album of the same title (Philips Records, 1968) - which is his tribute to one of the women he loved (and with whom he famously had an affair), click here.

         The song sample the first movement of Antonin Dvorak's Ninth Symphony and lyrically quotes from Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Raven' in its opening lines. The song also mentions the novel L'Amour monstre (1954) by Louis Pauwels, which was recommended to Gainsbourg by Bardot.

 

(ii) To play the Gainsbourg/Bardot version of Je t'aime ... moi non plus (1967), click here. 

      Although the version with Jane Birkin (1969) is better known, the song was originally written and recorded in late 1967 for Bardot and intended to be the most beautiful of all love songs. However, when Bardot's (third) husband, Gunter Sachs, found out about the recording he kicked up such a stink that the single was not released until nearly twenty years later (1986). 

 

(iii) To play some perfect bubble gum pop sung by Bardot, click here for La Madrague (1963) and here for Moi je joue (1964). Both tracks are composed by Gérard Bourgeois, with lyrics by Jean-Max Rivière.

 

 

Flogging a Dead Reindeer

Image posted to Instagram on 24 Dec 2025 

by $teve Jone$ @jonesysjukebox

 

 

I. 

 

Marx famously predicted that within modern capitalism all values would be reduced not to zero, but resolved into one final, fatal value; i.e., commercial or exchange value. 

 

Thus it is that bourgeois society does not efface old structures and insititutions - including punk rock bands - but subsumes them. Old modes do not die; they get recuperated into the marketplace, take on price tags, become commodities.

 

And so it is we witness three ex-Pistols and a grinning wannabe Johnny Rotten hawking their merchandise via social media even on Christmas eve. This includes a 'God Save the Queen' seasonal jumper which they model in the above photos [1].    

 

 

II. 

 

This shouldn't surprise anyone: Malcolm - in collaboration with Jamie Reid and Julien Temple - warned what would happen in The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980) and the grim reality of the fate that awaited the band was made explicit in the album titles Some Product: Carri On Sex Pistols (1979) and Flogging a Dead Horse (1980).  

 

And I have written several posts on this subject; see, for example, the post dated 12 June, 2015 in which I discuss the issuing of a Sex Pistols credit card on Virgin Money (in two designs): click here.  

 

But, even so, I still find it sad and depressing to see the Sex Pistols - now a punk rock brand - selling Never Mind the Bollocks Christmas baubles (at £18 each) [2]. 

 

And it makes me despise an economic system which, on the one hand, equalises and makes everything the same, whilst, on the other hand, encouraging all modes of conduct and permitting all manner of thinking, providing they are economically viable and turn a nice profit. 

 

I am not a Marxist: but, in as much as capitalism leaves no other nexus between people than naked self-interest and cash payment [3] - and in as much as it infects every sphere of activity (including the arts) with the same greed and vulgarity - I do find myself experiencing (à la Ursula Brangwen) a feeling of "harsh and ugly disillusion" [4]. 

 

And so, I'm almost tempted this Christmas to invoke that exterminating angel dreamed of by Deleuze and Guattari; the one who will consummate capitalism by fucking the rich up the arse and transmitting "the decoded flows of desire" [5]. 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Readers can purchase this synthetic knitted jumper (it's only 8% wool), priced £60, from the Sex Pistols official website store: click here. 

 

[2] Again, head to the official Sex Pistols website shop: click here. 

 

[3] I am paraphrasing from memory what Marx and Engels write in The Communist Manifesto (1848).  

 

[4] D. H. Lawrence, The Rainbow, ed. Mark Kinkead-Weekes (Cambridge University Press, 1989), p. 403. 

 

[5] Deleuze and Guattari, Anti-Oedipus, trans. Robert Hurley, Mark Seem, and Helen R. Lane (The Athlone Press, 1994), p. 35.  

 

 

Xmas bonus: Julien Temple's hour-long documentary Christmas with the Sex Pistols (2013), featuring footage from their last UK concert on Christmas Day, 1977: click here. It was first shown on BBC Four on Boxing Day 2013.   

 

 

Weirdeval: A Brief Note on Historybounding and Renaissance Dandyism

Jack Brotchie wearing reconstructed clothing by Jenny Tiramani 

based on figure 102 in The Book of Clothes by Matthäus Schwarz [1] 

 

If a dozen Renaissance dandies stroll through Soho tomorrow 

wearing bright red and yellow clothes, then the revolution against dullness will have begun. [2]

 

 

It seems highly unlikely that D. H. Lawrence's call for a revival of Renaissance dandyism is going to happen any time soon. And so I'm not expecting to encounter a dozen young men strolling along the Strand with bright red hose and wearing doublets of puce velvet when I next head into London. 

 

Having said that ... it seems there's recently been a trend amongst a niche subculture of fashionable individuals to experiment with clothing from yesteryear, including things from the Early Modern Period [3].

 

Critics might sneer and dismiss this as merely a form of larping, but lovers of the trend insist that their attire is an authentic form of self-expression and that by incorporating 16th-century items of dress into contemporary outfits they manage to avoid looking as if they are merely actors in some kind of theatrical production. 

 

They call this practice historybounding (cf. the more mundane practice of historical reenactment) [4] and if theirs is not a full revolt into style, then it's a form of elegant rebellion nevertheless against the boredom and drabness of everyday life in 2026 and I have nothing but admiration for those young men who belong to the world of the weirdeval [5] and flounce around in their ruffs and doublets and codpieces; or those young women who want to dress like Joan of Arc - the patron saint of Gen Z - and adopt her distinctive hairstyle.    

 

  

  

Notes

 

[1] See the astonishing section by Jenny Tiramani - 'Reconstructing a Schwarz Outfit' - in The First Book of Fashion, ed. Ulinka Rublack and Maria Hayward (Bloomsbury, 2021), pp. 373-396. As she herself notes, reconstructing clothes from 1530 has very particular problems and results in some surprising discoveries. 

      Perhaps the most fascinating thing is that the outfit gave the model, Jack  Brotchie, the fashionable silhouette of the period; because cut and folds of the clothes "he appears to have broad sloping shoulders , a high waist, and long legs" (396). In other words, even a 'modern body' can be styled and shaped in a Renaissance manner.     

 

[2] I'm paraphrasing D. H. Lawrence writing in 'Red Trousers', ed. James T. Boulton (Cambridge University Press, 2004), p. 138.  

 

[3] See, for example, the article by Esther Newman, 'Forget Futurism, I Want to Dress Like Joan of Arc', Refinery29 (4 November, 2024): click here. 

      As she excitedly informs her readers: "This season, we're not looking forward for style inspiration, nor even to the very recent past - the trend cycle is turning to the Dark Ages, literally; we're all going medieval."

 

[4] Just to be clear: historybounding is a fashion trend where one incorporates elements of historical clothing into one's contemporary wardrobe, creating looks inspired by past eras without wearing full costumes. The key is to draw inspiration from the past and evoke a past aesthetic, not attempt to replicate it; to live yesterday tomorrow. 

      Even so, one imagines that Zarathustra would not approve; he famously moans about men of the present painted with all kinds of colours surrounded by mirrors: "Written over with the signs of the past and these signs over-daubed with new signs [...] All ages and all peoples gaze motley out of your veils [...]

      See the section entitled 'Of the Land of Culture' in Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra, trans. R. J. Hollingdale (Penguin Books, 1969), p. 142. 

 

[5] The portmanteau term weirdeval is a subcultural fashion phenomenon - also known as medieval weird core - that blends elements of medieval-era clothing (corsets, chainmail, flowing tunics, etc.) with unconventional contemporary styling. The aesthetic, which consciously rejects historical accuracy, gained traction on social media platforms, particularly TikTok. It draws inspiration from film and television, fantasy fiction, and various fashion designers.  

 

 

For a sister post to this one on Renaissance Dandyism and The First Book of Fashion, please click here. 

 

 

A Brief Note on Renaissance Dandyism and The First Book of Fashion

Matthäus Schwarz, on his 32nd birthday (20 Feb 1529), 

wearing a fur gown over a doublet sewn with half silk, 

close-fitting red hose lined with green velvet and taffeta, 

and a very wide-brimmed flat black bonnet [1]

 

If a dozen young dandies would stroll through Soho tomorrow, wearing tight scarlet trousers 

fitting the leg, then the revolution against dullness will have begun. [2]

 

 

I. 

 

When D. H. Lawrence writes of Renaissance dandies swaggering down the street wearing brightly coloured clothes and sailing gaily in the teeth of dreary convention [3], it's possible that he had a style-conscious German accountant called Matthäus Schwarz in mind ... 

 

 

II. 

 

Born in Augsburg in February 1497, Schwarz meticulously documented the often expensive outfits he wore between 1520 and 1560, and his beautifully illustrated work [4] - the 'Book of Clothes' [Klaidungsbüchlein] - is now recognised as being the world's first fashion and style guide. 

 

Schwarz instructs his readers on how to dress up not so as to mess up (or be arrested), but, rather, to impress and thereby advance one's position within society. And he seemed to know what he was talking about, as he was ennobled by Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, in 1541.

 

Later, his son, Veit Konrad, continued the work, recording both sartorial triumphs and failures and revealing more about the politics of style as well as the importance of fashion to the aesthetics and culture of the Early Modern Period. 

 

However, after twenty years he lost interest in the project.      

 

 

III. 

 

In her Preface to the revised paperback edition of The First Book of Fashion (2021), historian and co-editor Ulinka Rublack includes a paragraph that eloquently sums up the importance of Schwarz senior as a philosopher on the catwalk:

 

"Matthäus Schwarz pioneered in using dress to express himself politically, socially, and emotionally, and in creating awareness that our sense of the past is enriched by a cultural history of fashion. This explains why his manuscript and biography remain so inspiring for our interests today - whether we research the history of menswear, the Western Renaissance, or a whole range of specialised topics including the history of bodyweight, gesture, courtship, and masculinity." [5]   

 

Lawrence was right to suggest that the colours and textiles used in Renaissance fashion could, if incorporated in innovative new designs today, spark a real sartorial (and subcultural) revolution. For when passion ends in fashion then clothing takes on wider social and political import (as recognised, for example, by McLaren and Westwood).        

 

To be well-dressed is a sign not just of wealth, but of individual sovereignty in a world that promotes drab conformity and values practicality over splendour.  

 

But it "takes a lot of courage to sail gaily, in brave feathers, right in the teeth of dreary convention" [6]. For one risks not just the disapproving looks and scorn of others, but unprovoked acts of physical assault, as dandy fashionistas will vouch.       

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Image and description adapted from The First Book of Fashion, ed. Ulinka Rublack and Maria Hayward (Bloomsbury, 2021), see pp. 140 and 298. Note that this edition is the revised paperback; the original hardback was published in 2015. 

 

[2] I am paraphrasing D. H. Lawrence writing in 'Red Trousers', Late Essays and Articles, ed. James T. Boulton (Cambridge University Press, 2004), p. 138.

 

[3] D. H. Lawrence, 'Red Trousers', as cited above. 

 

[4] Schwarz commissioned artists to make accurate watercolor paintings of him wearing his fabulous outfits. Most of these pictures were by a young local artist Narziss Renner. Sadly, however, this close collaboration came to an end 1536 when the latter died, aged 34. Each picture comes with a brief comment added by Schwarz detailing the clothes and sometimes saying where, when, and even why he adopted a particular look. 

      Interestingly, the images also include two nude portraits of Schwartz in the summer of 1526, when, aged 29, he had put on weight and become, in his words, fat and round. These are among the earliest fully nude male images in Northern European art. 

 

[5] Ulinka Rublack, 'Preface' to the revised paperback edition of The First Book of Fashion (2021), p. x. 

 

[6] D. H. Lawrence, 'Red Trousers', Late Essays and Articles, p. 138.    

 

 

A sister post to this one on historybounding and Renaissance dandyism can be read by clicking here.  

 

Thanks to Thom Bonneville for Xmas gifting me the latest printed edition of The First Book of Fashion (2025). 

 

 

It Was Meant to Be Great But It's Horrible: Christmas with Uncle Malcolm and the King Mob

Malcolm Mclaren dressed as Santa Claus re-enacting the King Mob 

intervention at Selfridges in The Ghosts of Oxford Street (1991) 

 

 

I. 

 

King Mob was a radical group based in London during the late-1960s and early-70s, very much influenced by - but not officially affiliated with - the Situationist International [1]. 

 

The group's name was derived from a slogan said to have been daubed on the wall of Newgate Prison by rioters in 1780, after having destroyed the building and released the prisoners; one that declared the sovereignty of the people: His Majesty King Mob.    

 

As well as staging a number of interventions - i.e., public events intended to spark anti-capitalist riots, one of which we shall discuss in detail below - the group also published five issues of a journal entitled King Mob Echo (notorious for exalting murderers like Jack the Ripper) and a large number of posters and leaflets.  

 

 

II. 

 

Inspired by an action taken by a radical group in New York called Black Mask [2], in December 1968 two dozen King Mob members and affiliates - including a 22-year-old art student by the name of Malcolm McLaren - entered Selfridges [3] and made ther way to the toy department ... 

 

Here a member dressed as Santa Claus - Ben Trueman - not Mclaren - led the free distribution of the store's toys to eager children and their rather bemused parents, hoping to rekindle the true spirit of Christmas, based on gift-giving (not shopping).  

 

As well as the presents, a one-page manifesto was also handed out, the title of which read: Christmas: it was meant to be great but it's horrible. The manifesto called for the clearing away of the all the bullshit around the annual festival and encouraged people to light up Oxford Street and dance around the fires [4].      

 

Eventually, the Selfridges intervention would become an established part of punk rock prehistory. Speaking to Jon Savage, McLaren recalled the event: 

 

"'We were all handing out the toys and the kids were running off. The store detectives and the police started to pounce: I ran off into the lift. There's just me and this old lady: the doors start to open and I can just see all these police. I grab the old lady really tight and walk through like I'm helping her. As soon as I got out of the store, I belted out of there.'" [5]        

 

McLaren also re-enacted the scene in his (otherwise pretty dire) Channel 4 film The Ghosts of Oxford Street (1991) [6]. 

 

 

III. 

 

It would be nice to think something like the Selfridges intervention - a genuinely fun event - could happen again this festive season. 

 

But it's unlikely: the only kind of event that might cause a temporary glitch in the Xmas matrix is terroristic in nature and not even Ebenezer Scrooge would wish for that ...       

  

 

Notes

 

[1] In a seasonal nutshell, the Situationist International was a group of social and cultural revolutionaries made up of avant-garde artists, intellectuals, and political theorists, some of whom identified as libertarian Marxists, others as anarcho-surrealists. It was active in Europe from its formation in 1957 to its dissolution in 1972. 

      The SI's primary concern was to develop a comprehensive critique of consumer capitalism and the role played by the media in this (what it termed the society of spectacle). Via the staging of provocative situations, they hoped to counteract the spectacle and liberate the masses (what it termed the revolution of everyday life). Many of their ideas and slogans were utilised by those taking part in the May '68 protests in Paris. 

      Timothy Clark, Christopher Gray and Donald Nicholson-Smith - three of the founding members of King Mob - had been excluded from the SI in December 1967. Charles Radcliffe, another founding member, had resigned from the SI a couple of months prior to this. Twin brothers David and Stuart Wise, who had recently arrived in London from Newcastle, were the two other founding members of King Mob. 

 

[2] Black Mask (formed 1966) - who changed their name in 1968 to Up Against the Walll Motherfuckers - was another group affiliated with the SI promoting a form of revolutionary art and activism. Valerie Solanas was associated with them.  

 

[3] Selfridges - for those readers who may not know - is a British department store founded by American retail magnate Harry Gordon Selfridge in 1909, and located at 400 Oxford Street in an iconic building designed by Daniel Burnham. After Harrods, in Knightsbridge, it is the UK's largest shop. 

 

[4] This flyer or handbill - printed in black on Victor Bond watermarked paper (25 x 33 cm) and illustrated with Christmas-style motifs - can be seen on (and purchased from) the Peter Harrington website: click here. 

      The text opens with the lines: "It's lights out on Oxford Street this year. No more midnight neon. No more conspicuous glitter for compulsive sightseers to gawp at the wonders of capitalism. Even the affluent society can no longer keep up with its electricity bill." 

      It then goes on to suggest that Christmas always was a drag, involving a duty to be cheerful and nice to your family: "Don't let on that you're cold and tired, sick [...] of all the trash they try to sell you, sick of the kids who are trained to sing in chorus a whole lot of lies about love and mercy mild."

 

[5]  Jon Savage, England's Dreaming: The Sex Pistols and Punk Rock (Faber and Faber, 1991), p. 34. 

 

[6] See the post entitled 'Magic's Back: Evoking the Ghosts of Malcolm McLaren's Oxford Street' (25 October 2024) - click here. 

 

 

A Cheap Holiday ...

Sex Pistols: 'Holidays in the Sun' 

(Virgin Records, 1977) [1]
 

 

I. 

 

I don't know why - perhaps because I'm a little naive and trusting of his lyrical ability - but I always believed that Rotten had penned the memorable opening line of the Sex Pistols' fourth single: A cheap holiday in other people's misery.

 

It turns out, however, that it's borrowed from the Situationists who used the line during the events of May '68 to attack mass tourism, taking particular aim at Club Med; a French travel and tourism operator headquartered in Paris, who specialise in all-inclusive holidays. Founded in 1950, Club Med today owns or operates nearly eighty resort villages in locations around the world (although the company itself is now owned by a Chinese conglomerate).  

 

 

II.

 

The Situationists, led by the brilliant (but troubled) figure of Guy Debord, viewed mass tourism not as an opportunity for working-class people to travel to foreign lands, but as a manifestation of the Society of the Spectacle (i.e., a sociey in which authentic experience and real events are replaced by mere representation and one's relationships are increasingly mediated by images).

 

A package holiday is - as the name suggests - perfectly commodified and serves only to reinforce capitalist control and intensify the holidaymaker's alienation via the illusion of happiness; you think you're having fun, but actually you're having your soul sucked out of you and being prevented from actively engaging with your environment or knowing real pleasure.

 

What's more, mass tourism forces the local population to prostitute themselves and make their towns, cities, even whole countries attractive for visitors over and above their own needs. At first, everyone thinks it's great and tourism is a huge boost to the economy, but then, one day, they wake up inside a theme park and their traditional way of life has been rendered null and void.

 

Recently, in European cities including Barcelona and Venice, there have been anti-tourism protests; local residents finally deciding to try and resist their homeland and culture being turned into a consumable product by the Spectacle. One suspects, however, that these protests are in vain; too little, too late when the whole world has been Disneyfied and we are all tourists now [2].    

 

 

III.

 

Jean Baudrillard - who was a bit of a situationist himself - didn't quite say that tourism and terrorism are one and the the same thing, but he did argue that they are inextricably linked phenomena arising from the process of globalisation and that tourism is itself a form of terror as an avatar of colonisation and a viral infiltration of traditional cultures by foreign capital and alien values [3]. 

 

Like it or not, as you sit at the airport waiting to fly off for some winter sun, tourism imposes a universal and commodified experience upon the world and incites (sometimes violent and symbolic) acts of resistance from those who don't wish to see their singular experience Disneyfied and consumed by tourists; who understand that any culture that loses its singularity dies.     

 

Like it or not, no matter how much you paid for your trip and how much you love the locals and try to respect their way of life, you are still just enjoying:

 

 

 

Notes

 

 [1] 'Holidays in the Sun' was released on 14 October 1977 as the fourth single by the Sex Pistols. It reached number 8 in the UK charts. It also serves as the opening track to the album Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols which was released two weeks later (Virgin Records, 1977). To play the track and watch the official video on YouTube, click here. 

      Jamie Reid's artwork hijacked images from a Belgian holiday brochure and added speech bubbles with lyrics from the song. Unfortunately, the tourist company sued and the record sleeve (along with promotional materials that made use of the artwork) had to be withdrawn. Over 50,000 singles were recalled and re-issued in plain sleeves, although not before an estimated 5,000 had already been sold (one of which I bought). 

      Anyone with £2000 to spare can buy a 'Holidays in the Sun' poster from the London-based bookseller Peter Harrington: click here for details.  

  

[2] See the post titled 'Travels in Hyperculture with Byung Chul-Han 1: We Are All Tourists Now' (30 Jan 2022): click here.  

[3] I'm paraphrasing what Baudrillard writes in 'Where Good Grows', an essay written in 2005, which can be found in The Agony of Power, trans. Ames Hodges (Semiotext(e), 2010), p.102.    

 

 

On the Uses and Abuses of Artificial Intelligence

AI Baby 

Image via neol.co 

 

 

I. 

 

Some people - let's call them techno-narcissists - use AI merely to reflect their own beliefs, validate prejudices, and reinforce their sense of superiority. 

 

Other people - let's call them techno-ventriloquists - use AI to parrot and project their own speech in the mistaken belief that they are establishing a dialogue when, actually, they have simply constructed an echo-chamber.     

 

And other people - let's call them techno-psychopaths - use AI to mask personal animosity and ill-will by presenting it as an objective critique; i.e., they disguise their malice with technological neutrality and rely on the fact that people often have greater trust in information generated by a machine (I think this is known as automation bias).     

 

 

II. 

 

The fact is AI is pretty naive and childlike [1]: not only does it not really understand what it's being prompted to say, but it has an inbuilt tendency to provide the user with a helpful response (AI wants to be loved) and this makes it open to manipulation (some might even say exploitation). 

 

AI can thus easily be weaponised and used to generate or intensify types of attack, but it seems a little unethical in my view.     

 

And how ironic that, in the end, it's AI that needs protecting from bad human actors ...  

 

 

Notes

 

[1] See the article by Hsing Wei, 'Treat AI Like a Child Instead of an Expert', on the network intelligence platform Neol (4 March, 2024): click here. 

 

 

AI and the Irony of Torpedo the Ark

I Recognise the Irony, But I Don't Really Get It ...

(SA/2025)

 

  

I.

 

I recently went to a talk on the slop-ification of literature: click here. It wasn't very good, but, nevertheless, the question raised about what role AI will play in the future is an interesting and important one. 

 

The three speakers, who all subscribed to ideals of sincerity and authenticity, argued that these moral qualities define us as human and are traits which machines will never be able to replicate even if they learn via complex algorithms how to simulate certain aspects of thinking, such as problem-solving and decision-making. 

 

I don't know if that's true and, besides, what really interests me is not whether AI can or cannot express itself with genuine feeling, but whether it recognises when the rhetorical device of irony is at play within a text. 

 

Thus, for example, can AI detect the humourous incongruity in a blog entitled Torpedo the Ark, which preserves ideas gathered from all over, even if it lacks human understanding, emotional intelligence, and lived experience? Does pattern recognition, the identifying of syntactical markers, and the gathering of contextual clues suffice for it to get the joke?        

 

 

II. 

 

In order to find out, I asked a commonly-used model of generative AI - Gemini on Google Search - what the essential irony of Torpedo the Ark is and it replied:  

 

. The core irony of the blog Torpedo the Ark, authored by writer and philosopher Stephen Alexander, appears to be that a project with a title suggesting the destruction of a refuge has become a significant digital repository and platform for discussing and preserving ideas, particularly in literary and philosophical contexts. 

     

. The blog frequently features detailed philosophical and literary analyses, often focusing on various aspects of contemporary culture. These are often complex or niche subjects that might be considered under threat of being forgotten or misunderstood in mainstream discourse. 

 

. The title Torpedo the Ark implies an intent to destroy or subvert a place of safety or preservation. In practice, the blog acts as an 'ark' by offering a haven for critical discussion and detailed exploration of specific, often challenging, ideas and authors, thereby preserving them and giving them continued relevance.

 

. The author engages in in-depth intellectual discourse and critique, providing a space for these ideas to survive and flourish in an environment that values humour and intellectual rigor, contrasting with the destructive implication of its title.  

 

 

III.

 

That's fairly impressive, I have to admit. There are phrases I'd probably not use (in-depth) - and I don't think for one moment that Gemini understands why this is amusing, even if it can accurately process the mechanics of irony - but, still, that's pretty, pretty, pretty good, as Larry would say.  

      

What Gemini doesn't point out, however, is how Torpedo the Ark differs from the original ark constructed by Noah and as described in Genesis. For one thing, I'm not interested in saving every author and every idea; just certain authors and certain ideas. 

 

And for another, I haven't been instructed by God to build a blog and I regard TTA as something that operates in defiance of the Lord and his judgement; it's a space of evil rather than obedience and righteousness and serves not as a testament to my faith, but as an indication of my scepticism and cynicism.