Pop's movie, Parte Dos

www.indiegogo.com/knox

This is an update concerning the documentary about my Pops.

Burning Cars and General Mayhem

Last night, in the throes of my pre-menstral/post-thanksgiving belly pain, I watched "Radiant Child", a documentary about Basquiat.  This story is not much new, although, indeed, "radiant" in that enviously open, angsty, allowed and brilliant terrible young-dead fashion.

But this post isn't to address the film, but just to ramble on about this latent desire I have to burn some cars or participate in a riot.  Granted, I hate hate hate crowds, am the size of an average 12 year old, and detest the smell of burning cars.  I've seen one burn before, flaming wildly on the shoulder of I-275N.  It was my BF's sister's Saturn and we were on the rescue mission, barreling up to Mary Helen as she giggled madly, clutching herself somehow proudly.  It actually did spontaneously combust, and Saturn paid for it later.  I swear, cars scare the piss outta me.  Like unpredictable crunching beasts.

Back to Basquiat, Kenny Sharf has this to say (regarding L.A. and it's inhabitants) when the millionaire Jean-Michel retreats there to paint, away from the heavy New York scene.
"Everyody thinks we're superficial;
and we ARE...
Deeply Superficial!"
Later I watched "Hollywood Homicide" with Josh Harnitt and Harrison Ford.  As with any action-comedy, there are some burning cars, which reminded me of a recent Facebook comment from Matt C.
"Just saw a burning car in Brooklyn, I love living in...."
and I recalled the earlier Sharf quote and thought,
better that than Superfically Deep.
This is not about Matt,
or even my own quick comment, which bounces back;
"I drive through Bankhead and see burning cars all the time"

(the reason why I try to rarely speak is my inclination towards defensive posturing, and the resultant    apologetic desire to withdraw comment and remain obtusely flexible of affect.) Actually, I'm a hypochondriac for attention, so let me take a minute to elaborate on myself, with whom I have been spending too much time alone with recently, and enjoy both belittling and building.

to me and you i say;

What a bunch of bullshit bravado.  Completely not true.  The only place I've ever seen burning cars was accidental, as a frame for a bonfire at a Rainbow Gathering,  and on TV; in Beruit, or Palestine, or (closer to home, and in the image above) Paris.  But that doesn't make my thrill at the very thought of seeing an actual car burning on the street any less.  Or my guilt for exaggerating any less both mystifying in our cultural environment, or easy to assauge considering that my momma told me lying is wrong, and I believe her (among other proofs).  But I love rich secrets, and I am little, with small claws and teeth, and have always handled the fluid mechanism of hyperbole/falsification as a basic defense device.  And hey, that's not so hard to understand, right?
as a foil and further ethical confundation; I submit this paragraph from an article written by Heather Stoddard titled The Religion of Golden Idols.  
"This is the Middle Way.  This position refutes all extremes, and indeed all philosophical beliefs:  it takes the view that all views are fundamentally erroneous, since by taking a standpoint they are inevitably one-sided.  In the same way all phenomena, physical and mental, are held to be composite, impermanent, and of interdependent origins." (Iconoclash, MIT, 445)

Ok, that's enough back story, now for my wishful apparition;
I know that I could buy fucked up cars for very little,
and that the studio is not as much fun as the street,
and that it's easier to burn things than to address them.
 I'd like to set cars on fire in the streets,
it would cost less than making big paintings,
and save alot of physical energy.
And for as little reason as georgeous uncontrollable conbustion,
because it's warm, and right now I'm cold, because I could,
because in other places they get to set cars on fire all the time.
But, in writing this, is it more or less likely to happen?
Just an Idea, cause my time is spent making things,
and often thinking about fucking them up.

Post South

Everything was Zef, 

even those crumpled aristo cats.

Reconstruction was  necessary,

carpet baggers padded coffers,

and the kudzu kept getting bigger and more fantastic. 

at least, that's what I heard.

I,I,

i left, and Mike, it's still the same, 

The Autumn IS amazing.