culture

Bananas Foster

It’s Bananas!

By now 

you’ve heard

the absurd

story

of the crypto

bro

with too much

dough,

in all 

his glory,

created 

a story

about 

quite

an appetite

for art.

Entrepreneur 

Justin Sun

paid

6.2 million

for 

“Comedian”

at auction.

The conceptual

artwork

is an exceptional

quirk

in a world

that is 

rather quirky.

The banana

affixed

with duct tape

may be hard

to appreciate,

but it appreciated

exponentially.

Art is weird,

I’m sure 

you’d agree,

in the sense

that it makes

no sense

in dollars

and cents.

We’ve had 

a Campbell

Soup Can

and a urinal

called

“Fountain”,

provoking

opinion

and questioning

definition

of what is

art?

Art fosters

conversations,

not just

transactions,

about institutions,

obligations,

subjugations,

conventions,

and other 

inventions

of the mind

that get

left behind

or issues

not considered

otherwise.

In the case

of “Comedian”

the fruit

of the labor

of the artist

and vendor

(who sold

the banana

at his bodega)

will not receive

payment

from 

this sale.

But the statement

beyond the

“Comedian”

piece tale

was the ease

with which

the entrepreneur-

banana -connoisseur

ate it.

*image: nytimes.com/2024/11/20/arts/design/cattelan-banana-sothebys-auction.

Wicked Gladiator and A Real Pain

Not quite 

“Barbenheimer”,

“Wickadiator”

might

be the invigorator

that Hollywood

needs,

as the movie house

bleeds

since the pandemic.

“Wicked”

and “Gladiator II”

are the new

block busters

at a theater

near you.

One a prequel;

the other,

a sequel.

The former, 

a musical;

the latter,

well…

a gladiator

spectacle.

Remarkable

to me,

as I tend 

to see 

connections,

it’s the perfect

cultural 

and political

projections

these titles

unwittingly

mention.

I mean…

really…

Wicked

and Gladiator II

are true

descriptions

of the nature

and prescriptions

of the next

administration.

And a smaller

movie

I saw 

recently,

has a title

that says

it all

completely:

“A Real Pain”.

The Wicked

Gladiator,

who “governs”

as dictator,

is a real pain

and an ass

on top 

of it all.

I’m thankful

for a brief

reprieve

from grief,

as I will 

share cranberry 

sauce

across

the table,

and steer

clear

of the political.

I’m grateful

I’ll be celebrating

Thanksgiving

with family

and friends

whose connection

depends

not on

policy position,

or opposition,

but on disposition

and love.

Despite a real

pain

so many 

sustain,

we remain

capable

of being

better.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Lost in the Woulds

Would that the first

First

Gentleman-

Elect

reflect

the scope

of change

and hope

and range

we thought

we ought

to be celebrating

after electing

the first 

Black-Asian-

American

woman

POTUS…..

we would

still

be terrified

about 

a result

denied

and would

be bracing

for 

more

terror.

Would

this moment

become

some

abberation

or recalibration

or decimation?

Would we

continue

as who

we thought

we ought

to be

or would

we flee?

Would

chicken eggs

be worth

more than 

human

eggs

without

Citizens

United

and the Supreme

Court determined

to abort

women’s 

reproductive

healthcare

everywhere?

Now that 

we are getting

a sequel,

we would

have 

insured

a different

prequel.

America

the beautiful

is full

of ugly

Americans

full

of greed

who concede

racism

and misogyny

and who 

need 

to be freed

of their pain.

What seems

insane

and inane

to half

of us

doesn’t

matter

to the rest.

Who would

have thought

we’d fail

the test

of what

we were

taught

to matter?

I am sadder

that we 

are so 

desperately

lost,

than angry,

though

admittedly

somewhat

scared.

I guess

my anxiety

prepared

me

a bit

for what

would

have never

been

imagined

until

recently.

The fantasy

of individuality

and “Don’t

Tread on Me”

will always

be

selective.

It’s the stupid

economy,

I hate to say,

that seems

to sway

the most.

We’ve lost

our way

when 

we would

rather

say anything

and do

anything,

no matter

how harmful,

because 

we are

so broken.

Everyone

is broken.

This would

not be

a revelation

had this

election

gone differently.

But apparently,

breaking

bad

with a mad

man

(and lots of

angry

men

and the women

who support

them)

is where 

we are

no matter

how far

gone

we have

lost

ourselves

in the

woulds.

Controlling the Whether

The ubiquitous 

pronoun

“they”

is used 

to convey

gender fluidity

and conspiracy

leaving a question

of plurality

of the situation

discussed.

Never one

to be on

the fence,

MTG,

who represents

Georgia constituents,

presents

crazy (and stupid)

statements

like:

“they control

the weather”.

Who are the

they

to whom

she refers?

She prefers

the pronoun

to keep it

nebulous,

never mind

incredulous,

that any

entity

or group

could recoup

the weather.

But when 

I hear

“they control”

I cringe

at the trolls

knowing

who

they mean

to say

when they

say “they”.

But her pretense

made even

less sense

than earlier

comments,

yet

she stirred

the muck

sufficiently.

All there is

to control

is whether

we go down

the rabbit 

hole

and lose

our souls

in the process.

Controlling

the whether

or not

we feed 

the beast

is the least 

we can do.

Heat Wave

Desantis

cut

all grants

for arts

in Florida.

This is not

merely

the display

of Tom Delay

opposing

a nude

sculpture.

This is culture

war 

gone

nuclear.

Aside

from 

refuge

from the deluge

of the monstrosity

of absurd 

political

verbosity,

the arts

engage 

with less savage

rage

and elevate

hearts

and minds.

Thinking

critically

is critically

necessary,

and increasingly

lacking

in society.

Not merely

criticizing

the opposing

position,

but juxtaposing

division

for consideration

is the job

of the thoughtful

democratic

citizen.

Of course

arts 

are 

not exclusive

to democratic,

inclusive

societies.

All cultures

create

culturally 

great

works,

that work

to showcase

impressions,

expressions,

confessions,

obsessions

beyond

politics

or religion,

or economics

or any statistics.

Art 

is part

of being

human,

if only

to be

appreciated.

No reason

was given

as to what

had driven

Desantis

to defund

grants

for arts

across

the great

state

of Florida.

How about 

opera

in Tampa?

Or the Miami

City

Ballet?

Or the New

Word Symphony

or every gallery

from Tallahassee 

to The Keys?

More importantly,

these sacred

places 

not

for profit

benefit

the public—

educating,

celebrating,

debating,

and creating

connections

anew.

He won’t

undo

what he 

threatens

to,

despite

his defunding

veto.

It’s abundantly

clear

he’s sincere

about 

being a

rage 

machine.

He won’t

be outdone

by anyone

except

by himself.

Should

we be 

outraged

or disengaged?

Which

would be

most effective

against

the invective

and incentive

to be incensed

by the lack

of sense

and every 

pretense

and policy

to lash

back

against

culture

and history

since 1960?

Adding fuel

and heat

to compete

for VEEP

may be

a steep

conquest,

but my best

guess

is that

this wave

won’t 

save

him.

Heat

waves

have begun

not just

in the Sunshine

State. 

The first 

debate

will ignite

the fight

that will

get overheated

as MAGA

acolytes

on the right

like to 

make waves

and heat

things up.

The boiling

point

is the point;

to foil

any opposition

even if

the position

is to defund

all arts.

Don’t let

the heated

rhetoric

and waves

of crazy

keep you

lazy.

Support

the arts.

Buy and read

banned books.

Help women

access care

as needed.

Ignore the 

debate.

Help create

access

and accountability.

It’s your responsibility

in this 

heat wave.

See Worthy

Seeing 

sounds

like looking,

but looking

more closely,

supposedly

what we see-

though we may

disagree-

is processed

internally;

while looking

outwardly

is the action

that allows

us to see.

We look 

good

when we

appear

sincere

and cohere

to a point

of view.

What others

see 

is not

necessarily

our intention

but a form

of convention

even 

if unconventional.

Signaling status

or virtue

or aspiration,

our communication

is mostly

visible.

Yet we are

miserable

when 

misperceived

as unachieved

as per 

our intentions.

Seeing connections

requires 

looking

and thinking;

linking 

between

what may

be seen

and what

is shown,

making itself

known

as related.

Making contact,

in fact,

creates 

continuity

and unity

in thought,

action,

and relation.

This creation

is what

we look for

and endure

when we 

see

love.

But do we

actually 

see

need?

Or greed?

Or just

agreement?

Or disagreement

cemented,

keeping

us tormented

still wanting

to be right?

Sight

acknowledges

with understanding

that compatibility

is different

from uniformity

and the enormity

of possibility

requires

looking for 

rapport

and seeing

humanity

in all its

incongruity.

Separation Anxiety

Wait…

Are we

breaking

up?

or down?

I thought

you taught

me 

everything

I knew

without

knowing.

I threw

myself

into 

you,

believing

the conceiving

was a

how-to

create

fulfilling

life.

Strife 

is inevitable,

but this

is incredible

in the worst

way.

Our 

ancestors

split

into the pit

of war

and tore

themselves

apart.

The scars

inflamed

but were

tamed

until

recently.

The cult 

of personality

of indecency

is claiming

it’s all 

about

policy.

You want

to be

free 

from 

Me?

You,

who insist

on Christ

first

as a

gun toting

misogynist

and homophobe

in a judge’s

robe,

without

limit

to prohibit

that which

you deem

oppressive.

You

are

overtaxed?

It’s impressive

how simple

minded

people

like

to be

told

day and night

that they

are right

to be

aggrieved

and wanting

to be

free.

A civil 

war?

A cold

war?

A revolution?

It feels

like dissolution

of the evolution

of what could

be 

a better

future;

a more

perfect

union.

I see

the enemy

of the good.

We should

be able

to reconcile,

but the infantile

bile

has been

weaponized

to legitimize

some fantasized

perversion,

while an infantilized

conversion

has materialized

before

my eyes. 

I’m still surprised

by this uprising,

making

it seem

like our thing

was a long

fling.

But truth

is enduring

despite

luring

attempts

to 

undo

US.

We have

much

work

to do;

not just

to protect

and defend,

but mend.

I can’t 

pretend

it’s just

one

election

to be

won.

But it 

could be

the last

of the past

248 years.

America, Pure and Simple

We tell

our early

history

like the purity

of Eden,

as though we

began

in the 50s.

Our garden

was victorious,

and thus,

we were born

as us

in the glorious

nation

of Perry Mason.

The wrongly

accused

used 

the best 

defense

to reveal

the pretense

of the guilty.

Mid Century

Modern

beyond the 

aesthetic,

was the 

Cold War

ethic,

pure,

and 

simple.

The 60s revolt

was jolt

after jolt

to the preceding

calm

and conformity.

The enormity

of change

and a lost

war

tore

us apart.

The politics

of identity

was the new

purity

test,

while testing

nukes

against

or from

Soviets

remained

the most 

deadly threats.

After the fall

of the wall,

our Eden

seemed 

on the verge

of restoration

until 

the devastation

of 2001

took us on

an odyssey

of 

and against

hate

and crazy.

We have 

an affinity

for purity

despite

reality.

It’s practically

our DNA

to this day,

whether

individually

or societally.

It’s how we

see,

unless

we profess

to look

beyond

or respond

with inquiry.

It’s messy,

and unsatisfying

to have what

you don’t 

want

or like.

Evil

exists

just

as gravity

persists,

even though

we can

go to 

the moon

or across

the earth

through

the sky.

Our history

of purity

did not

make

America

great.

Like too much

Purell,

we lose

our ability

to quell

super 

contagions.

Our actual

history-

factual

and blistery-

is a longing

for purity

while

being

very messy.

Long before

the 50s

and the trials

that we’ve

endured,

we’ve been

lured

by purity

as morality.

Confronting

evil,

pure 

and simple,

is maybe

the purest

thing 

we can do.

No need

for perfection

or purity

test

to vociferously

and actively

object

to those who

detest

democracy,

diversity,

and the reality

that makes

America

great.

It’s not

a unified

reich.

Less is More

I hear

less used

more frequently

than what 

“should be”

fewer.

It drives me

nuts

and cuts

to my 

guts

as I wince

at the evidence

of ignorance

and intolerance

to abide

by rules

of shared

expression.

My confession

as a grammar

cop

is no

drop

the mic

situation.

I know 

the flow

of communication

is a slow

evolution

of sorts.

Each generation

adds iteration

and creates

itself

anew.

I know

I shouldn’t

hammer

the skew

in grammar

but it sounds

so wrong

to me. 

Grammar

rules!

But schools

of thought

have taught

that what

is indicated

is complicated.

Or maybe 

it’s all 

for naught.

The mixing

of quantity

and quality

reflects society’s

confusion.

“Less” 

is more

often used

than “fewer”,

as newer

conventions

take hold.

I’m not quite

sold

on what sounds

merely

lazy,

lacking knowledge

of distinctions.

But what’s

the difference?

Many hands

make 

more work

(and fewer

make less).

I know

that no

one cares

about 

my woe,

(except

perhaps

a few 

of you).

Rules

may be

meant

to be

broken,

but deciphering

meaning

is confusing

enough,

much less

when more

than intended

rules 

are upended.

Am I

crazy?

Are we 

just lazy?

Or is a hazy

recollection

of the collection

of rules

more 

or less

too much

to ask?

Speech Pathology

The right

to speak

freely

and to protest

peacefully

are hallmarks

of democracy.

Yet

the threat

of actions

from aggressive

factions

in reaction

to passions

inflamed,

has sustained

fears

of violent

incidents.

When 

the former

President-

defendant

posts

quotes 

and

anecdotes 

or notes

his

rants

against

individuals

he claims

are against

him,

he goads

and corrodes—

even erodes

codes

of ethics

and possibly 

laws.

Meanwhile,

the protests

at Columbia

etcetera,

are confounding.

Sounding

off 

on campus,

while camping

out

as classes

are in session,

is practically

tradition.

But the current

condition

of free speech

transmission

raises

the proposition

that the exhibition

is potentially

physically

dangerous

to any 

of those

who might

oppose.

Many 

have mentioned

Skokie,

the would-be

Nazi

march

through a

community

of survivors,

as an example

of ugly,

yet free, 

speech.

We live

in an ugly

time of

pathology

where 

speech

is not

merely

a trigger,

but the

ammunition

for the 

dissolution

of civil

discourse.

This pathology

is antithetical

to a functional

democracy

even when 

the speech

is free.