Friday, November 22, 2013

Obscene Art Colony




Parking the car this morning a song came on I hadn’t heard in years:  “Obscene and Pornographic Art” by Bongwater.  It is a rambling, erotic stroll by Ann Magnuson through the Metropolitan Museum of Art that electrifies the otherwise stayed middle-school tour destination with a Dionysian, unveiling of art-through-the-ages.  The scintillating progression builds to an anthemic climax, of course, that had me doubled over laughing in our rather public, garage in the basement:

And how 'bout those plump maidens?
Those hot cherubic babes being presented to Apollo, Dionysus, Neptune or one of those other well hung Gods huh?
What about them stripped bare-assed naked like the day they was born
With their hands bound by garlands and wet dewy budding blossoms ripe and tender to touch
Just like the lesbians in that 16th century tapestry
The one over the harpsichord looking just like California blondes
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm

Just then three suffragettes descend from the sky
On an old fashioned wooden deus ex machina, singin'--
I ain't wearin' any underwear
I ain't wearin' any underwear
I ain't wearin' any underwear
I ain't wearin' any underwear

The Met should put this tune on the audio tour headphones for singles night.  I never knew much of Bongwater’s other material from their brief career from 1985-1992.   I’ll have to dig in.  I miss the Met.  There is nothing even remotely like it in Beijing.



I finished Thomas More’s “Utopia” yesterday.  He wouldn’t have approved.  Though the Utopian’s might have.  It’s hard to imagine how, without the contrivance of satire he could have hoped to get away with a disruptive vision for human society in the early sixteen century.  The depiction of the Utopians is relentlessly positive.  They have, essentially figured it all out, with the exception of Christianity and here too, they have taken to the Word, rather quickly.  I wonder which was more shocking for its time:  Bongwater’s erotic trot through the Met in 1990 or Thomas More’s suggestion that the ideal society would sensibly allow for thorough male and female naked body checks, yes,不挂[1], prior marriage.  Here is a passage on the Utopian’s approach to premarital evaluation.   

In choosing their wives they use a method that would appear to us very absurd and ridiculous.  But it is consistently observed among them and is accounted perfectly consistent with wisdom.  Before marriage some grave matron presents the bride naked, whether she is a virgin or a widow to the bridegroom and after that some grave man presents the bridegroom naked to the bride.  We indeed both laughed at this, and condemned it as very indecent.  But they, on the other hand, wondered at the folly of the men of all other nations, who, if they are but to buy a horse of a small value, are so cautious, that they will see every part of him, and take off both his saddle and all his other tackle, that there may be no secret ulcer hid under any of them; and that yet in the choice of a wife, on which depends the happiness or unhappiness of the rest of his life, a man should venture upon trust , and only see about a hand’s breadth of the face, all the rest of the body being covered, under which there may lie hid, what may be contagious,  as well as loathsome.   All men are not so wise as to consider the body as that which adds not a little to the mind: and it is certain there may be some such deformity covered too late to part with her.  If such a thing is discovered after marriage, a man has no remedy but patience.   They therefore think it is reasonable that there should be good provision made against such mischievous frauds. 

Somehow I find it refreshing that a man who was prepared to have his head removed for his faith could not only write something so provocative but cast himself within the story, initially at least, as a man who gut-laughs before deigning to comment on the relative decency of anything.  It is, first and foremost, funny.  He set it up in the tale, first and foremost, to be funny, as well.  As I suggested two posts back, rich British humor is there in bloom, four hundred and fifty years before Monty Python.  But the sense of imperial entitlement is still pending. 

And to the point yesterday, Utopia is certainly a new world.  Perhaps it would only have been possible in place and time when horizons were being expanded so quickly.  One could go somewhere new, over the sea and try to build a perfect society.  The ”New World” would of course become the canvas for centuries of such efforts, journeys originally undertaken to reach the China and its goods, which they knew were out there.



With the exception, perhaps, of the introduction of the Buddhist tradition, China had no compelling evidence, causing them to think of themselves as anything other than the apex of human civilization.  All of this self-centered satisfaction left them open to a rather profound comeuppance in the middle of the nineteenth century.  Thomas More is an intellect of Western Civilization during early sixteenth century.   He’s a faithful Christian and a student of ancient Greece and Rome, but still, he seems to think there is something better, out there, somewhere.  Something better is possible beyond the tradition.  China wouldn’t really feel this way ever till the mid-nineteenth century.   As I said, if they wanted to find something better, they looked back.  And the West, once the world is explored and mapped, and all the other of the earth’s civilization’s are subdued, begins to become comfortable with the notion that it is the apex of human civilization.  And this has continued, largely, as a subtle default till today.  And it may be that a decisive comeuppance, wherein we commence to desperately envy another civilization’s ability to drive modernity and the power that comes with it, used, perhaps, to our detriment, is looming in our time. 

This is a brief section from the “Invidia” chapter of “The Seven Deadly Starbucks” (7DS) set in my neighborhood Starbucks.  Envy is the metaphor to explore driving around that neighborhood in my Honda Odyssey.

Envy sloshes about our suburb like it does around the region.  China lives in a vexing neighborhood with little trust and lots of disruptive momentum.  Envy as it concerned most things traditionally flowed in one direction, from the periphery, into China.  China was clearly the center of the civilized world.  What else could be so big, so old, so refined?  The vicissitudes of this dynastic cycle or that might make the Middle Kingdom a rather less than enviable place to be from time to time, but even the conquerors, the Mongols, the Liao, the Jurchens, paid the vanquished the ultimate conceit.   They tried, largely, to become Chinese. 

The Chinese and their neighbors had no reason to doubt Chinese preeminence till about 1839 or so.   The modern world then forced China to reconsider everything.  Suddenly it became clear that there were many, many things that China didn’t have and needed, immediately.  China would not be able to defend itself if it didn’t learn from outside.  China wanted to leverage these foreign forms and imbue them with Chinese spirit.  And this proved impossible as the handling of the forms began to alter the nature of the handler’s essence.   For the first time envy began to flow, convincingly, outward.   Wholesale cultural envy was new.  A bitter, grinding envy for a tradition-bound, continental giant, ever more aware of what it required, but unable to do anything about it, quickly.






[1] Yīsībùguà:  not wearing one thread (idiom); absolutely naked / without a stitch of clothing / in one's birthday sui

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