New Paradise Laboratories  

 BABY I WAS BORN THIS WAY

Respond
PERFORMING REALITY / REALLY GOING FORM IT AN ESSAY BY QUEUE SPERANZA PT. 2 Again, frame begins. But in this second part of the

PERFORMING REALITY / REALLY GOING FORM IT

AN ESSAY BY QUEUE SPERANZA PT. 2

Again, frame begins. But in this second part of the larger project of "the greatest freak out ever", the frame is more pronounced, implying not only narrative but twinned historicities: the post-postmodern and the mythico-biblical. The echoing emptiness of the domestic ("real") space swallows the attempt at self-definition Stephen so tragically grasps at within the auto-articulating ("digital") space. This sterility, this anodyne veneer of tranquility, becomes a base upon which a second proto-mythical narrative of archetypes is danced in steps of 1s and 0s.



Stephen's rallying cry of "Stop freaking betraying me, I'm on your team," while appearing at first to be operating with singular pure force that defies attempts to theorize any deeper meaning besides a stereotypical reading of "masculine" aggression canalized into specific physical forms, actually 'betrays' more complicated subaltern proto-verbal fears concerning masculinity, kinship, and the articulation of self. Here the biblical irrupts into our modern frame, washing over the floodplain of domesticity and altering the visual landscape we scan for signifiers of meaning. Cain and Abel vie with Jacob and Esau for semiotic significance; Blood and pixels intermingle. The result is a chimeric performance, or, more specifically, the performance of a chimeric state. Stephen craves confirmatory articulation of the borders of his self even as he rages against the dictatorial rule of heterosexualized bloodlines in the modern conception of family. The computer screen, then, becomes a wall, not a window, and the vise grip of modernity on the nascent project of adolescent gendering grows tighter. 



Just when we feel Stehpen deserves nothing but pity, frame emerges again to push us back towards the canyon edge of understanding artifice.



"Add him on myspace by typing stephen quire" floats in red, and the axis of this world shifts wildly. Is Stephen a persona, some creation of the viral economy? Is this video series really a chronicle of the sever anger and emotional volatility of a young boy struggling into manhood, or is something more composed, more formal(ized), and ultimately more sinister at play? As the digital space continues to unfold, the light of sure truth becomes murkier, more removed, casting all we see in a twilit pall of ambiguous intentionality. Plato's cave, disabused of any notions of causality, emerges as a structural metaphor with the possibility to undergird further discussion of this fascinating project.

 
Respond

 We are all gods in ruins.

Respond

 We're going to have to go deeper.

Respond

 http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=18729&id=100001984157150

Respond
Respond

 http://www.cnn.com/2011/WORLD/meast/02/21/egypt.child.facebook/index.html?hpt=C1


news i can understand

Respond
PERFORMING REALITY / REALLY GOING FORM IT AN ESSAY BY QUEUE SPERANZA 1. We begin with the intimation of frame. Gilded narratives of masculinity

 PERFORMING REALITY / REALLY GOING FORM IT 

AN ESSAY BY QUEUE SPERANZA

1.

We begin with the intimation of frame. Gilded narratives of  masculinity and aggression bookend the twin gulfs of  lack that saturate the screen: the absence of safely coded outlets through which one shores up the mud walls of 'manhood', as well as the unimpeachably present absence of female-coded sexual space into which one must eject the waste-product of maleness in order to seize the mantle of 'man'. This paradoxical shedding/accepting marks a curious case of modern groupthink, one that diverges from historical precedent as it relates to socio-seminal attitudes: because we are men, we cast off, we do not create.

Stephen, then, represents the late stage of this mayfly-like moment in masculinity. Presented with a castrating mother who removes not his testicles, his physical link to an outmoded conceptual identity, she removes his ability to access readily available self-confirming spaces of auto-articulation. This casts him into a cage of the family's making, unable to define himself in relationship to others, he must come up against the stone lips of origin. Denied reentry into the life-giving matrix from which he emerged, he is doomed to express displeasure through paroxysms of a kind of ghost dance, re-membering the fetal self. 

Respond

 http://dreamofsafety.blogspot.com/2011/02/respiration.html

Respond
Respond

Create Your Account

Be creative when choosing a username; this will be your "character" on FRAME. Fiction is welcome!

Add a profile image to your account with Gravatar

Login or