14 Apr 2024

Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena

Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena  
(SA/2024)
 
 
In 2022 NASA assembled an independent study team [1] to analyse what are known as unidentified anomalous phenomena [2]
 
Headed by David Spergal, the UAPIST consists of sixteen experts who, presumably, like Fox Mulder, are motivated by the belief that the truth is out there (although is unlikely, in their view, to be extraterrestrial or paranormal in origin) [3].
 
According to Spergal, many - if not most - UAP events can be attributed to everyday causes, including weather balloons and atmospheric phenomena. However, he concedes that there remain events which cannot easily be explained and these warrant, in his view, further investigation, as anomalies sometimes reveal new and interesting facts about the universe. 
 
Unfortunately, I believe the UAPIST was dissolved upon the completion and submission of its final report in September 2023 - which, if true, is a real shame, as I was hoping someone from the team might be able to tell me what the three bright and colourful lights dancing about like sprites outside my bathroom window the other night were ... (see photo above).  
 
 
Notes
 
[1] Go to the NASA website for more information on the UAP Independent Study Team: click here.
 
[2] Apparently, the term UAP first appeared in the late 1960s, although I had never heard it used until very recently. Those who privilege the term see it as a more encompassing description than the older term UFO and also free of the cultural associations attached to the latter which can be problematic for those wishing to conduct rigorous, evidence-based research.
 
[3] The UAPIST began work in October 2022 and held its first public meeting in May 2023. Their final report was released in September 2023 and did not find any evidence to suggest that extraterrestrial life was responsible for the mysterious and unusual things that all manner of people had observed.   
 
 

12 Apr 2024

Crass By Name ...

Penny Rimbaud peering out from behind the Crass logo

I.
 
The Horse Hospital is a Grade II listed building in Bloomsbury, built by James Burton, in 1797, as a place of rest for sick and tired horses, notable for its unique stone tiled floor.
 
Since 1992, however, it has been an independent arts venue exhibiting work by those who like to think of themselves as being underground, countercultural, or avant garde. The kind of place that boasts about not only championing the outsider, but, by rejecting professionalism and the market, refuses to sell out:
 
'We are alternative, celebrating individualism, anti-conformism, sincerity and integrity ... Embracing the romantic and the life affirming.'
 
But then, having said that, it prides itself also on the fact that it is 'firmly established in the London arts and fashion industries' and has worked in conjunction with many prestigious organisations: 'giving the Horse Hospital international recognition'.
 
It also isn't shy about asking for financial donations from would-be supporters and selling 'Everything from original Artworks, Posters, DVDs, Books, Magazines, CDs and T-shirts to just mad shit we think you'll like' (the latter including an official Horse Hospital pin badge for £10, which works wonderfully on any lapel).   
 
Readers can make up their own minds about this, but, needless to say, it's not really my kind of place and it seems to me that in the transition from purpose-built stable to progressive arts venue the honest smell of 19th-century horseshit has been replaced with an odour of sanctimonious bullshit.    
 
 
II.
 
Perhaps not surprisingly in light of what I say above, three members of the anarcho-hippie art collective Crass [1] - Gee Vaucher, Steve Ignorant, and Penny Rimbaud - chose the Horse Hospital last night to launch their new book, CRASS: A Pictorial History 621984 - 4022024 (Exitestencil Press, 2024) [2].
 
Whilst I have time for Vaucher and her artwork - and would recommend the recent study by Rebecca Binns; Gee Vaucher: Beyond Punk, Feminism and the Avant-Garde (Manchester University Press, 2022) - I am less sympathetic to Messrs. Ignorant and Rimbaud. 
 
Ignorant - a young Clash fan who fell under the influence of Vaucher and Rimbaud when staying at Dial House [3] - was the Crass vocalist who provided the group with a certain working-class credibility. And he still seems to happily play this role now; a kind of punk court jester wearing his cor blimey trousers and effing and blinding like a trooper. 
 
The perfect comic foil, in fact, to Rimbaud's philosopher-king, and, despite all the pretence that Crass operated as a community of equals, I think it was pretty clear that Rimbaud - or Pen, as his friends and devoted followers like to call him - is the first among equals. 
 
If I was interested in what Vaucher had to say and vaguely amused by Ignorant, I was taken aback by the ramblings of Rimbaud who, it seems, has learnt absolutely nothing in the last 40 years, still maintaining his belief in revolution and still aching like Walt Whitman with his love for universal humanity (born of his romantic idealism rather than any true feeling for others).
 
There was something senile and self-regarding about Rimbaud that I really didn't like and so I'm glad that I didn't have to pay the £5 entrance fee, as I wouldn't wish to have given even a penny for his thoughts [4].
 
 
Gee Vaucher and Steve Ignorant

 
Notes
 
[1] I know some people will insist that Crass are first and foremost an anarcho-punk band, but I always felt they were rooted more in the Summer of Love than the Summer of Hate; just because hippies wear black that doesn't mean they stop being hippies. Steve Ignorant may belong to the punk generation and have something of the punk attitude, but Penny Rimbaud and Gee Vaucher clearly have a very different background and perspective and are often dismissive of punk (and youth culture in general). 
 
[2] The numbers are dates: though keen-eyed readers will note that they have either missed out a zero in the first date or mistakenly added a zero in the second.
 
[3] Dial House is the large, Grade II listed, 16th-century farm cottage on the outskirts of Epping Forest, Essex, where Penny Rimbaud and his partner Gee Vaucher established an open-house and creative arts centre in the 1960s. It remains an anarcho-hippie haven to this day.   
 
[4] Nor would I pay the £50 asking price for the book being promoted, though plenty did; they even waited patiently in line to have the book signed by their heroes (bless). 


9 Apr 2024

Disney Über Alles

The Happiest Place on Earth [1]

"Children, I wanna warn ya / 'Cos I've been to California
Where Mickey Mouse is such a demon / Where Mickey Mouse is as big as a house!" [2]
 
 
I.
 
Cotino is the first Storyliving community being developed by Disney in Rancho Mirage, California. Work started on the 618-acre site - which will feature residential housing, hotels, resort facilities, and a retail centre, all surrounding a 24-acre grand oasis and an artificially blue lagoon - in April 2022. 
 
Disney are so confident that it will be a successful venture, that, in December 2023, they announced plans for a second such community, Asteria, in Pittsboro, North Carolina, which will include 4,000 homes (the same month that the first houses in Cotino went on sale, although the community will not be opened until 2025).    
 
 
II. 
 
In an article published in The Guardian [3], Oliver Wainwright discusses Disney's plan for curated living, i.e., a life which unfolds in a perfectly stylised and completely controlled environment so as to ensure that residents and guests experience the magical joy that the company has been peddling for a hundred years.    
 
Wainright calls it a fantasy world, but it's really much more (and more sinister) than that; this is a model of zen fascism overseen by Mickey Mouse and other Disney cast members where neighbours will be able to "bond over Disney-themed art lessons, enjoy dinners inspired by Disney stories and join family days with Disney-related activities". 
 
Wainright also informs us that the themed homes curated by Disney imagineers will be priced in excess of $1m, whilst the forthcoming town centre will feature "a street market where local artists will sell Disney-themed arts and crafts" and there will be "'abundant opportunities for laughter'". 
 
Oh, and if you're wondering how to keep a large lake sparkling blue all year round in an area that suffers from extreme drought, well, that's thanks to patented Crystal Lagoons technology.   
 
This expansion by the world's largest mass media and entertainment conglomerate into the real world is surely something that Uncle Walt would have approved of and might have amused Jean Baudrillard were he still alive to witness it ...
 
 
III.
 
Baudrillard wrote an important piece on Disneyland more than forty years ago in his seminal text  Simulacres et Simulation (1981), describing it as "a perfect model of all the entangled orders of simulacra" and a "frozen, childlike world [...] conceived and realized by a man who is himself now cryogenized" [4] and awaiting resurrection.  
 
Obviously Disneyland exalts American values in miniature and cartoon form. But it does more than this: its real purpose is to conceal the fact that it is the real America, just as prisons are built in order to disguise the fact that society is itself carceral. 
 
Baudrillard writes: 
 
"Disneyland is presented as imaginary in order to make us believe that the rest is real, whereas all of Los Angeles and the America that surrounds it are no longer real, but belong to the hyperreal order and to the order of simulation. It is no longer a question of a false representation of reality (ideology), but of concealing the fact that the real is no longer real, and thus of saving the reality principle."
 
He continues: 
 
"The imaginary of Disneyland is neither true nor false, it is a deterrence machine set up in order to rejuvenate the fiction of the real in the opposite camp. Whence the debility of this imaginary, its infantile degeneration. This world wants to be childish in order to make us believe that the adults are elsewhere, in the 'real' world, and to conceal the fact that true childishness is everywhere - that it is that of the adults themselves who come here to act the child in order to foster illusions as to their real childishness." 
 
With the opening of Cotino next year, I'm not sure whether the Disney executives so skilled in playing this game of concealment have finally triumphed and the Happiest Place on Earth will soon expand across the globe, or if, perhaps, they have made a fatal miscalculation and all but the most fanatic of Disney adults will decide they've had enough of staged reality and curated living.    
 
 
Notes 

[1] This was the original slogan for Disneyland, Est. 1955. 
 
[2] Lyrics from 'Do You Wanna Hold Me?' by Bow Wow Wow, from the album When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Get Going (RCA Records, 1983): click here.
 
[3] Oliver Wainwright, 'Let's move to Disney Town! Will life in its 2,000 themed homes be a dream or a nightmare?' The Guardian (08 April 2024): click here.

[4] This text by Baudrillard was translated into English as Simulacra and Simulation by Sheila Faria Glaser (University of Michigan Press, 1994). Material quoted here and following is from a section entitled 'The Hyperreal and the Imaginary' in the first chapter, 'The Precession of Simulacra'. See pp. 12-14. 

 

8 Apr 2024

What Was I Thinking? (8 April)

Images used for the posts published on
this date in 2014, 2021, and 2023
 
 
Sometimes - especially those times when, like today, I can't think of anything else to write about - it's convenient to be able to look back and see what one was thinking on the same date in years gone by ...
 

 
The interesting thing about this post from 8 April 2014 is that it cost me a very dear friendship with an amazing woman called Beatrice de Dia, who found it to be Islamophobic, whereas it was, rather - as the title surely indicates - simply an expression of my porcophilia.   
 
And so, whilst the post did challenge the dietary injunction against eating pork found within Islamic (as well as Jewish) religious culture, it mostly celebrated pigs as intelligent, social, and loveable creatures who are, of course, genetically very similar to human beings, sharing as we do 98% of our DNA with them (which is why they represent the best hope for the xenotransplantation of organs in the future).
 
The post was also a reading of the view put forward by Christopher Hitchens; namely, that the reason heaven hates ham has nothing to do with food hygiene, but because eating pork uncomfortably reminded the ancient Semites of a time when human sacrifice and cannibalism were de rigueur
 
Finally, the post ended by calling on non-Jews and non-Muslims to also reconsider their own vile treatment of the pig and end the disgusting cruelty of factory farming. 
 
For if, on the one hand, pigs deserve better than to be vilified by those who allow religious superstition to distort their relationship to the animal world, then on the other hand, so too do they deserve more than being confined, separated from their young, and forced to live in their own filth before being slaughtered in their hundreds of millions each year by the Chinese, Americans, and Europeans. 

It's such a shame that Beatrice couldn't process the post - despite smiling at its mock-epic quality - and seemed to think I was encouraging racial and religious intolerance (even hatred). I'll always think of her very fondly (and still miss her terribly). 
 
 
 
Fast forward seven years, to 8 April 2021, and I was offering thoughts on An American Werewolf in London (dir. John Landis, 1981). 
 
Well, I say that, but actually the post was less a film review and more an excuse to sing the praises of two women who have secured their place in the hearts (and erotic imagination) of many a male viewer: Jenny Agutter and Linzi Drew. 
 
The former, who plays Nurse Alex Price in the film, is still, in my view, one of the most beautiful English actresses ever to have graced the screen; whilst the latter, appearing as Brenda Bristols, may not quite have the same allure as Mary Millington, but she did have a successful (and varied) career in the UK sex industry during the 1980s, working as a stripper, model, and porn star.
 
One day, if I can ever see past the charms of the female stars, I must really get around to discussing the demonic Nazi stormtroopers that appear in a terrifying dream sequence that even the Chapman brothers would've been proud of and how the film is crucially tied to the question of Jewish identity and feelings of cultural estrangement ... 
 
 
 
Was it really 14 years ago that Malcolm McLaren died, aged 64, and over 50 years ago that Picasso departed this life, aged 91? Apparently. 
 
As I noted in a post published last year on this date, McLaren may have acted with mock delight when told of the great Spanish painter's death, but he undoubtedly admired Picasso and was happy to pose by one of his works when being interviewed at the Guggenheim in 1984 for an episode of The South Bank Show
 
His friend from art school days, Fred Vermorel, wrote this in 2015:
 
"Considered as an artwork [...] McLaren's Sex Pistols was as seminal and resonant as Picasso's Guernica. Only this was a masterpiece made not of paint and canvas but of headlines and scandal, scams and factoids, rumour and fashion, slogans, fantasies and images and (I almost forgot) songs - all in a headlong scramble to auto-destruction."[1]     
 
I think that's not only a nice thing to say, but also very true.
 
 
Notes
 
[1] Fred Vermorel, 'Blowing Up the Bridges So There Is No Way Back', in Eyes for Blowing Up Bridges: Joining the Dots from the Situationist International to Malcolm McLaren (John Hansard Gallery, 2015). Quoted by Paul Gorman, The Life and Times of Malcolm McLaren (Constable, 2020), p. 292.  


4 Apr 2024

Advice to a Young Blogger (2): On Establishing Your Blog as a Plane of Immanence

Gilles Deleuze attempting to keep things simple

 
 
I. 
 
In a recent post I offered some advice about blogging; stressing the need to be consistent, insistent, and persistent if one wishes to establish a plane of immanence [click here].
 
But Franz, from Austria, has written to ask what is meant by this complex concept, borrowed from Deleuzian philosophy [1], in relation to a humble theory of blogging.
 
So, let me try and answer ...
 
 
II. 
 
By establishing a plane of immanence - in relation to a theory of blogging - I mean that one must do more than merely create a space of writing in which to publish one's ideas, memories, observations, and holiday snaps [2].
 
On a blog conceived as a plane of immanence, we find an intricate network of forces, particles, connections, affects, and becomings and the writer becomes a subject-without-identity - a difference engineer - not an author who personally vouches for the truth content of the posts or guarantees the logical organisation and development of the blog. 
 
On a blog conceived as a plane of immanence, posts shouldn't be considered as empty forms awaiting for an author to fill them with content in order to give them their significance. Posts should be thought, rather, as active productions (or events) in themselves that require concrete methods of immanent evaluation rather than texts awaiting judgement with reference to a transcendent model of the True, the Beautiful, and the Good.     
 
The key thing is: on a blog conceived as a plane of immanence, one can ensure the eternal return of difference; not repetition of the same. In that way, blogging is about becoming, not securing identity. 
 
And remember: Becoming is a verb with a consistency all its own ... [3]  

 
Notes
 
[1] Deleuze can be a difficult philosopher to read at times, but I think it's fair to say that when he writes of a plane of immanence, he's putting forward an epistemological notion; but when he writes of the plane of immanence, he posits an ontological idea (developing Spinoza's monism). It's the former that has always most interested me; that is to say, the fact that there can be multiple planes of immanence each corresponding to an image of thought
 
[2] Like Deleuze, I do not think writing is an attempt to impose a coherent and conventional linguistic form on lived experience; blogging should not become a form of personal overcoding. Any writing that is reliant upon the recounting of childhood memories, foreign holidays, lost loves, or sexual fantasies, is not only frequently bad writing, but dead writing; for literature dies from an excess of emotion, imagination, and autobiography, just as it does from an overdose of reality. See the post entitled 'A Deluezean Approach to Literature' (30 August 2013): click here

[3] Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, trans. Brian Massumi (University of Minnesota Press, 1987), p. 239. 
 
 

3 Apr 2024

Advice to a Young Blogger: Be Consistent, Insistent, and Persistent


 
Advice to a young blogger just starting out [1] [2]:
 
 
1. Be Consistent
 
Not so much at the level of content or argument, but in terms of style; i.e., don't worry if your blog contains wild variations of subject matter and logical contradictions - consistency is not the same as identity - just ensure it maintains a certain look and feel and a certain level of intensity [3]

2. Be Insistent
 
Not on one's rightness - as Nietzsche said, it is nobler to declare oneself mistaken than to insist on being right (especially when one is right) - but insistent like the waves on the rocks; i.e., completely indifferent to the morality of your actions, but all the time shaping the coastline.    
 
3. Be Persistent
 
Just keep writing and keep publishing posts even when it is difficult, or tiring, or boring to do so - even when other people encourage you to stop. Persistence is a perverse virtue that pushes one beyond what others regard as normal or usual or even healthy; it's continuing to dig even when you're in a hole.   
 

Notes

[1] Funnily enough, this is the same advice that is given to gender diverse children who believe themselves to be born in the wrong bodies and wish to transition to a gender identity other than the one assigned at birth: be insistent, persistent and consistent and you just might persuade your parents and the health care professionals dealing with your case that you are genuinely transgender and not merely gender non-conforming or simply like dressing up and playing imaginative games.  
 
[2] Any would-be bloggers reading this - of any age (or gender) - might also like an earlier post (published in October 2021) offering untimely advice on how to develop an effective blog: click here
 
[3] Deleuze would probably speak at this point of forming a plane of consistency upon which concepts can arise from chaos, but I'm not Deleuze. 
 
 
For a follow-up post to this one - on establishing your blog as a plane of immanence - click here


2 Apr 2024

Celia Shits! Notes on Jonathan Swift's 'The Lady's Dressing Room' and (Alleged) Coprophobia

Portrait of Jonathan Swift by Charles Jervas (c. 1718) 
Detail from National Conveniances by James Gillray (1796)
 
I. 
 
D. H. Lawrence famously accuses the Anglo-Irish writer Jonathan Swift of being mad with fear for the body and its potencies. He was, says Lawrence, particularly troubled by the thought that even the fairest of young ladies had to defecate: 
 
"The insanity of a great mind like Swift's is at least partly traceable to this cause. In the poem to his mistress Celia, which has the maddened refrain: 'But - Celia, Celia, Celia shits!' we see what can happen to a great mind, when it falls into panic. A great wit like Swift could not see how ridiculous he made himself. Of course Celia shits, who doesn't? And how much worse if she didn't." [2]

I don't know if that's entirely true or fair, but it's certainly the case that Swift was one of the most consistently scatological of writers in a period in which many authors were as equally obsessed by the fact that man is born inter faeces et urinam, as Saint Augustine famously put it, and one suspects that whilst he often exploited his obsession for comical purposes, there was an element of fear and horror beneath the laughter ... but then isn't there always?
 
 
II. 


Swift's notorious poem, 'The Lady's Dressing Room' (1732), tells of of how a lover, Strephon [3], driven by perverse curiosity and the will to know, sneaks into his sweetheart Celia's dressing room while she's away only to quickly become disillusioned at what he discovers there; namely, that women are not ideal beings after all, but physical creatures who sweat, and shit, and blow their noses just like men.   
 
Although Lawrence is keen to attack Swift for his excremental vision and perceived misogyny [4], the latter is arguably satirising the fact that it is men who foolishly oblige women to try and live up to an ideal model or fantasy of femininity born of the male imagination. 
 
And so, one might have thought Lawrence would have been a bit more sympathetic, as he himself condemned this game of female adaptation to masculine theories of womanhood [5]. But all Lawrence's sympathies are with Celia, not Swift, and he insists that beneath any attempt to provoke laughter, the latter - like Strephon - was driven mad by the thought of Celia defecating:
 
"It was not the fact that Celia shits which so deranged him, it was the thought. His mind couldn't bear the thought. Great wit as he was, he could not see how ridiculous his revulsions were. His arrogant mind overbore him. He couldn't even see how much worse it would be if Celia didn't shit. His physical sympathies were too weak, his guts were too cold to sympathise with poor Celia in her natural functions. His insolent and sickly squeamish mind just turned her into a thing of horror, because she was merely natural and went to the WC. It is monstrous! One feels like going back across all the years to poor Celia, to say to her: It's alright, don't you take any notice of that mental lunatic." [6] 
 
 
III.
 
That's very decent of Lawrence - an example, perhaps, of phallic tenderness
 
But still I'm grateful to Swift for reminding us that the charms of womanhood are founded upon illusion or artifice and require a clever use of clothes, cosmetics, wigs, etc. 
 
Although, as noted by the philosopher Michael Hauskeller [7], this fact doesn't detract from the charms of womanhood, any more than does their corporeal reality detract from their spiritual nature; the latter being rooted in the former as Swift makes clear when, at the close of the poem, he speaks of colourful tulips rising from the dung (just as order is born of chaos). 

Like Hauskeller, I think the most crucial couplet in Swift's poem is this one: "Should I the queen of love refuse, / Because she rose from stinking ooze?” 
 
The answer that Swift supplies to this question is an emphatic No and Lawrence really should've given this more attention than the line he chooses (like so many other critics and readers) to focus upon. 
 
 
Notes
 
[1] Both these works can be found in the National Portrait Gallery, London. Click here and here for further details and to buy prints if interested. 
 
[2] D. H. Lawrence, A Props of "Lady Chatterley's Lover", ed. Michael Squires, (Cambridge University Press, 1994), p. 309. 
      Lawrence goes on to say that it is monstrous for a man to make a woman "feel iniquitous about her proper natural function" and blames it on a failure to keep the mind "sufficiently developed in physical and sexual consciousness" (309). The poem by Swift to which Lawrence refers is 'The Lady's Dressing Room' (1732): click here to read online.    
      See also Lawrence's 'Introduction to Pansies' in The Poems, Vol. I, ed. Christopher Pollnitz, (Cambridge University Pess, 2013), Appendix 6, pp. 663-666, in which he first makes his critique of Swift, insisting that the latter was reduced to gnashing insanity by thoughts of women defecating: "Such thoughts poisoned him, like some terrible constipation. They poisoned his mind."

[3] Strephon is a name traditionally used within pastoral poetry to refer to a lover. Amusingly, a lesbian friend of mine has reimagined Swift's poem and named the character Strapon.
 
[4] 'The Lady's Dressing Room' is often viewed as a vicious attack on the falsity of women. In a poetic response entitled 'The Reasons that Induced Dr. S. to Write a Poem call'd the Lady's Dressing Room' (1734), Lady Mary Wortley Montagu suggests that Swift wrote his verse following a frustrating encounter with a prostitute (i.e., that it was born of impotence, not madness as Lawrence claims). Click here to read Lady Montagu's poem online.
 
[5] See the essay by Lawrence entitled 'Giver Her a Pattern', in Late Essays and Articles, ed. James T. Boulton (Cambridge University Press, 2004), pp. 160-165. 
      Note that Lawrence does not object to the giving of patterns per se or the female need for such and their use of cosmetics to keep up appearances - nor even to the fact that "men give them such abominable patterns [...] perverted from any real natural fulness of a human being" (163) - but, rather, to the fact that "as soon as a woman has really lived up to the man's pattern, the man dislikes her for it" (163). In other words, it's male fickleness and foolishness that Lawrence finds objectionable.    

[6] D. H. Lawrence, 'Introduction to Pansies', The Poems, Vol. I, Appendix 6, pp. 665-666.

[7] See Hauskeller's blog post 'Celia Shits: on Jonathan Swift's "The Lady's Dressing Room"' (25 October 2013): click here. Hauskeller's philosophical musings anticipate and closely mirror my own. I agree with his argument that Lawrence ultimately misunderstands Swift and misinterprets 'The Lady's Dressing Room'. 
 

1 Apr 2024

Thy Teeth Shall Not Do Him Violence, Nor Thy Bowels Contain His Glorious Body!

 
Juan de Juanes:  
Christ the Saviour with the Eucharist (1545-1550)
 
And after he had given thanks, Jesus broke the bread, and said: 
'Take, eat! This is my body, which is broken for you ...' [1]


I. 
 
Just for the record, I am not now and nor have I ever been a member of the Christian Church and so Holy Communion (or Mass) is not something I have personal experience or knowledge of. Thus, the question surrounding what happens to the sacremental bread (or host) once it has been consecrated and consumed as the body of Christ, is not really a great concern to me. 
 
However, for those who take these matters very seriously indeed and believe the miraculous teaching of transubstantiation - which is central to the Eucharist - to be literally true and not merely a symbolic act, the suggestion that Christ's holy flesh might have an excremental fate is problematic to say the least and has been the topic of fierce theological and philosophical debate going back many centuries.
 
 
II. 
 
Following the widespread religious, cultural, and social upeaval triggered by the Reformation, this really rather odd debate became heated once more and 17th-century English poet John Milton was particulary horrified by the thought that Christ could be eaten and subject to the natural processes of digestion:
 
"The Mass brings down Christ's holy body from its supreme exaltation at the right hand of God. It drags it back to the earth, though it has suffered every pain and hardship already, to a state of humiliation even more wretched and degrading than before: to be broken once more and crushed to the ground, even by the fangs of brutes. Then, when it has been driven through all the stomach's filthy channels, it shoots it out - one shudders even to mention it - into the latrine." [2]  

This passage not only exposes Milton's coprophobia, but makes his opposition to what is known as stercoranism equally clear.
 
For outraged Puritans like Milton, the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation simply could not be true as this would not only mean that Mass is a form of cannibalism and utterly alien to reason - which is bad enough - but that it results in something so repulsive as to be blasphemous: Christ's flesh turned to shit.  
 
 
III. 
 
Whilst early Church theologians were prepared to accept that the sacramental elements of Christ's body were digested and excreted, later Catholic thinkers did what they could to repudiate this idea; declaring, for example, that whilst Christ is indeed present in the consecrated bread and wine, that is only before they are consumed and lose their appearance.   
 
In other words, when  the sacramental forms of bread and wine are changed, the substantial presence of Christ ceases to be. 

Despite this attempt to reassure, however, still the fear of stercoranism persisted, although, for me, it's a positively healthy thing to recognise that the holy spirit returns at last to that from which it arises; i.e., base matter. 
 
For whilst the marrying of shit and divinity may cause horror in the minds of some, there are compelling philosophical reasons eschatology should always include a scatological component and that's why what might otherwise seem to be an arcane (and insane) discussion over the status of the bread and wine used in the mass is still vital.    
 
Ultimately, we all unite in shit even if we do not all cleave together in the body of Christ. And that's what Holy Communion teaches us: paradise is regained in death; a festive return to the actual, as Nietzsche describes it [3].   
 
 
Notes
 
[1] First Epistle to the Corinthians 11: 24.
 
[2] John Milton, Complete Poetry and Essential Prose, ed. William Kerrigan, John Peter Rumrich, and Stephen M. Fallon (Modern Library, 2007), p. 1290. 
      Despite what Milton warns here and elsewhere in his prose writings about worshipping a wafer and cannibalising the body of Christ, communion is given prominence in Paradise Lost (1667) and an astonishing vision of transubstantiation on a cosmic scale is imagined. Push comes to shove, I prefer the playful poet over the angry puritan reformer.
      Readers interested in this topic might like to see the excellent essay by Regina M. Schwartz, 'Real Hunger: Milton's Vision of the Eucharist', in Religion & Literature, Vol. 31, No. 3 (Autumn, 1999), pp. 1-17. The essay is conveniently availble on JSTOR: click here
 
[3] See Nietzsche, Kritische Studienausgabe, Volume 9, 11 [70], where, in a note written in 1881, he says that we shouldn't think of our return to the realm of inanimate matter (the 'dead world') as a regression, but, rather, as a joyous form of reconciliation with what is actual. 
 

31 Mar 2024

Piss Artists 3: Andres Serrano (Piss Christ)

Andres Serrano: Immersion (Piss Christ) (1987) 
Cibachrome print photograph (150 x 100 cm) [1]
 

I. 
 
For most British people, a piss artist is one who likes to get drunk, act the fool, produce shoddy work and generally waste time. In other words, one who gets pissed a little too often; pisses around a little too much; and pisses people off more than is deemed acceptable. 
 
However, for some of us, the term also triggers thoughts of Warhol, Chadwick and Serrano and here I would like to discuss a famous work by the third of these piss artists, Andres Serrano ...
 
 
II.
 
It's debatable if Piss Christ (1987), by the American photographer and artist Andres Serrano, is profoundly appropriate for publication on Easter Sunday, or wildly inappropriate. 
 
Either way, the mysteriously beautiful (and award winning) picture of Jesus on the Cross submerged in a small glass tank of urine is his one work that pretty much everybody recognises and it's the work that most fascinates me at the moment.
 
Serrano often likes to use bodily fluids in his work; not just piss, but also blood, semen, and human breast milk. Why that's the case - what his artistic obsession with these things (and other base materials) reveals about him or forces us to face up to in our own lives - I'm not sure. 
 
Having read a fair amount of Bataille, however, I've a pretty good idea: the use of base materials disrupts the opposition of high and low by exposing the fact that whatever is elevated remains dependent on soil, slime, and shit and this dependence means that the purity of the ideal is contaminated or corrupted. 
 
Similarly, by affirming à la Henry Miller everything that flows and showing how bodily fluids very much belong to a libidinal economy - even though such secretions are often subject to severe prohibition and taboo - artists are able to destabilise all fixed and firm foundations. 
 
 
III.

I suspect that Serrano knows all this, so his expressions of surprise that the work should generate huge controversy (mostly because it was thought blasphemous by those on the religious right, rather than deconstructive of metaphysical dualism) are somewhat disingenuous [2].
 
And, as a lifelong Catholic who takes his faith seriously, Serrano probably also knows that the Eucharist contains a dirty little secret; that the bread and wine are not symbols of the body and blood of Jesus Christ as most people believe, but, rather, of metabolic waste materials (the idea being that the holy spirit is born of excess; that divine energy is a surplus that cannot be absorbed into daily life; that the accursed share is that which makes blessed) [3].          
 
Thus, whilst I may not want to hang a print of Serrano's Piss Christ above my bed, I acknowledge its theo-philosophical importance.
 
And, like Apollinaire, I refuse to be shocked, or scared, or to stand in awe of art and have no qualms about any materials the artist chooses to use. 
 
 
Notes
 
[1] Piss Christ was one of a series of photographs that Serrano had made that involved classical statuettes submerged in various body fluids.

[2] Although initially Piss Christ was well received, as word got round that Serrano had (at the very least) insulted Christ and all those who regard him as their saviour, he started to lose funding and receive hate mail (including death threats) - which isn't very Christian when you think about it. 
      Serrano, however, denied his work had any overt political content and rejected the accusation that he was attempting to blaspheme. In fact, Serrano suggested that Piss Christ should be regarded as a serious work of Christian art, saying:  "What it symbolizes is the way Christ died: the blood came out of him but so did the piss and the shit. Maybe if Piss Christ upsets you, it's because it gives some sense of what the crucifixion actually was like."   
      And in 2023, even the Pope was prepared to accept this argument, after meeting with the artist in Rome and giving him his blessing. By this date, the value placed on the work by the art market had also risen miraculously; in October 2022, Piss Christ was sold at Sotheby's (London) for £130,000 ($145,162).
      The quote from Serrano is taken from an interview with Jonathan Jones in The Guardian (3 April 2026): click here
 
[3] As one commentator on the subject of excrement and religion notes:
      "The perennial intermingling of scatology and religion is so extensive that cataloging it could fill volumes. The conjoining of excrement and divinity may bring about cognitive dissonance in some, or even most, but for many throughout history it has been a harmony that leaps immediately to mind, though to various ends." 
      See Andrew G. Christensen, "'Tis my muse will have it so": Four Dimensions of Scatology in Molloy', Journal of Modern Literature, Vol. 40, No. 4 (Summer 2017), pp. 90-104. Lines quoted are on p. 97. This essay can be found (if interested) on JSTOR: click here
 
 
To read the first post in this series - on Andy Warhol and his Piss and Oxidation Paintings (1977-1978) - please click here
 
To read the second post in this series - on Helen Chadwick and her Piss Flowers (1992) - please click here.        
 
 

30 Mar 2024

Piss Artists 2: Helen Chadwick (Piss Flowers)

Helen Chadwick in a field of Piss Flowers
Photo by Kippa Matthews (1992)
 
 
I. 
 
For most British people, a piss artist is one who likes to get drunk, act the fool, produce shoddy work and generally waste time. In other words, one who gets pissed a little too often; pisses around a little too much; and pisses people off more than is deemed acceptable. 
 
However, for some of us, the term also triggers thoughts of Warhol, Chadwick and Serrano and here I would like to discuss a famous work by the second of these three piss artists, Helen Chadwick ...
 
 
II. 
 
The British artist Helen Chadwick died (relatively) young - she was only 42 - but not before she completed the work by which I, like many of her admirers, best remember her - Piss Flowers (1991-1992). 
 
Piss Flowers is a work composed of twelve sculptures made by quite literally pissing in the Canadian snow and then pouring plaster into the (pre-cut) flower-shaped cavities left by the warm streams of urine. 
 
These casts were then attached to stem-like pedestals based on the fat-bodied shape of a hyacinth bulb, before being cast in bronze and enamelled white.        

If it sounds like all good clean fun (whatever that means), Chadwick insisted that, actually, it was hard work producing the dozen finished pieces and they also cost her £12,000, which might sound like a small or large sum of money, depending on one's circumstances [1].   

The Piss Flowers were displayed (on artificial grass) as part of Chadwick's solo exhibition - amusingly entitled Effluvia - at the Serpentine Gallery, in the summer of 1994 [2]. Happy days ...
 
 
III.
 
Enchanted by the fact that the majority of flowering plants possess both male and female sexual organs and have found a way to incorporate sexual difference into their singular being, Chadwick wanted to produce a work which celebrated this via a form of erotic play, or what she describes in a poem written at the same time as "Gender-bending water sport" [3].   
 
Thus, it was important that she and her male partner, David Notarius, both pissed into the snow; she using her liquid waste to create the central phallic-shaped pistil and he directing his urine to produce the delicate, labial-looking circumference. In the same poem referred to above, Chadwick writes of "Vaginal towers with male skirt" [4].   
 
Later, she would describe Piss Flowers as a metaphysical conceit - and a deeply romantic work in which two people are united as one via bodily expression. It might also be seen, as one commentator rightly points out, as an example of indexical art - i.e., art that doesn't appear to be authored but directly preserving an imprint of reality (an idea that had long fascinated Chadwick). 
 
Whether one finds the flowers beautiful or repulsive (or both) is, of course, a matter of individual judgement; one local councillor up in the East Midlands was quoted by the Nottingham Evening Post as saying: "I doubt the minds of the people who can create things like this." [5] 
 
Whilst personally I wouldn't want a fleur de pisse planted in my back garden, I do admire Chadwick's attempts to create things of beauty out of unconventional materials, such as bodily fluids and base matter.
 
And her attempt to effect a becoming-plant by entering into an unnatural alliance with the snow in such a manner that queer forms blossom from molecular forces is not only artistically daring but - from a Deleuzean perspective - philosophically interesting. 
 
One can't help wondering what would Linnaeus say ...?

 
Notes
 
[1] £12,000 in 1992 was the equivalent to around £31,000 today.
 
[2] Effluvia received widespread critical attention and national press coverage. It was seen by over 54,000 visitors - a record number for the gallery at that time.
 
[3] Helen Chadwick, 'Piss Posy' (1992). 
      Unfortunately, I cannot locate this poem online and do not know if it was ever published. However, I did come across (what I think is termed) an ekphrastic poem written by Jo Shapcott, entitled 'Piss Flower' (2018), which can be read online (thanks to The Poetry Archive) by clicking here. It is clearly inspired by Chadwick's work.  
 
[4] Helen Chadwick, 'Piss Posy' (1992). 
 
[5] The fact that this censor-moron was a councillor up in D. H. Lawrence country only goes to show how little things have changed; 60-odd years earlier, Lawrence's art was attacked as the work of a depraved sex maniac - including his watercolour Dandelions (1928), which famously depicts a man pissing on some flowers: click here
 
 
To read the first post in this series - on Andy Warhol's Piss and Oxidation Paintings (1977-1978) - please click here.
 
To read the third post in this series - on Andres Serrano's Piss Christ (1987) - please click here.