Portraits
A Portrait of the Monkey as an Artist.
When I hear a song on the radio, or watch a movie, read a book or look at painting, sometimes, I think, “Well, a monkey could have done that.” But I suppose, it’s an unfair opinion to have since you would sort of need opposable thumbs to handle musical instruments and recording gadgets and pens and what nots. Alright, so certain non-human primates like the Old World Monkeys and the Great Apes have opposable thumbs too but regardless, producing creative work is a difficult process. It takes preparation – coffee, cigarettes, finding a genius friend whose brain you can pick, plus a lifetime of self doubt, loathing, imagining things that aren’t really there, creating unnecessary conflict in your life – and that’s all before you even decide that you do indeed, wish to be an ‘artist’ of some sort. The aspiring “artist” will possibly suffer from a chronic lack of sleep, fall into the high-risk category for lung cancer, will endlessly whinge when uninspired and will end up having no friends due to all the whining and complaining. And a lot can depend on a piece of creative work – from the frailty of the human ego, the career of a former Mouseketeer to the dignity of a country. The pressure, sometimes, can be like a shot of Botox….. to the heart.
Now, I don’t claim to understand the inner-workings of the monkey’s mind but I’m guessing a monkey would never put itself through these self-inflicted miseries just to express something some idiot thinks was thought up by a monkey. If a monkey has something to say, it will throw a banana in your face. If a monkey has something it wants, it will steal your food and throw the Tupperware in your face. If the monkey feels restless, an itch to achieve something in life, it will get its monkey friend to pick fleas off its back. If the monkey wants to be entertained it will get its monkey friend to eat the fleas. If the monkey wants to entertain, it will make friends with Michael Jackson (oh, Bubbles!)
For us human beings, how many times have we mentally (or physically, depending on how you deal with your frustrations) beaten ourselves up (or someone else, again, depending on how you deal with your frustrations) over not coming up with something that we consider a work of sheer artistic genius (that might serve a practical purpose, nonetheless)? How many times have we looked at our work and think that we should stab ourselves in the neck repeatedly with a blunt pen, in penance for our creative failure? How many aspiring “artists” (I hate the word ‘artist’ but I couldn’t find a better one. “Creative types” is too long and even dumber) have considered and perhaps, followed through on the idea that we should give up on our dreams and ambitions simply because we feel that we’re just not good enough? I know I have. You see, I sold my sense of humor in exchange for an Australian Visa and an overseas education. As it turns out, living in bling-bling Gold Coast and higher education does not seem to be helping me discover my artistic and emotional depths. This is why I’ve been reluctant to write recently because without a sense of humor and a proper grasp of the complexities of human emotion, I was never going to come up with anything good. I know I never bothered rehearsing playing the guitar because I felt I was never going to be any good. I know I haven’t really done or properly pursued anything in my life simply for fear of not being any good. And I’ve always felt that it was a good enough reason to do nothing. To forget about it all, head to the beach and work on tanning my pasty legs so I won’t be mistaken for a British tourist. Even then, I fear wearing shorts, not because I’ve accidentally bought a pair of demon-possessed flesh-eating shorts but because I quite simply, do not look fantastically good in one.
But it half-dawned on me today, while I was partially hallucinating from my cold medication that whether we create something that turns out a piece of crap or pure gold is ultimately, beside the point. I remembered watching a Francis Ford Coppola film short (I forget what the title was but it was crap by the way because even Mr. Coppola comes up with crap sometimes), where Nick Nolte’s character said “People don’t become artists because they’re good at it, they become artists because they have no choice.”
I guess, only or maybe, it is mostly human beings that feel the need to create something that goes beyond basic survival requirements. Award-winning writer and broadcaster, Armando Ianucci in his speech at the Royal Philharmonic Awards earlier this year had this to say of Man’s desire, need even, for creating music “For me, there is no other reason to this other than to remind us that, no matter where we are, whether we're learned, in prison, poor, successful, alone or average, our material circumstances are not all that we have, that we can see beyond ourselves, that we're human and are therefore dignified.” The same notion can be applied to the writer, the movie-maker, the dancer, the actress the painter, the guy who exhibits a rubbish bag in a gallery space and calls it ‘art’ – we do it to say that we are not, after all, monkeys.
So … my point is, if have a point at all, which I recall vaguely having at the start of this essay, is that if you find the entries on this blog from here on out crap, please don’t be blaming it on a monkey.
Bananas for all!
Much love,
The Great Automatic Writing Monkey,
Maryam.
*Like Maryam, Armando Ianucci too is a great lover of music but cannot sing a note or properly play an instrument to save his life. For the full text of his touching speech, please clgo to:
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A Portrait of the Artist as a Politician
I’ll admit it; as much as I love their music, sometimes, I find Bono, Chris Martin and Rage Against the Machine’s political ranting and raving very irritating and it is at those times when I find myself thinking that musicians and politics should not mix. I read a comment on another blog once which said, “music is meant to be created, listened to and enjoyed and not some sounding block for a singing bloke.” But then I think, is it not the democratic responsibility of us all, regardless of our profession, to engage in open, public debate?
That said having a bunch of people buy your records and scream your name at a concert is not the same as having them go and listen to a political debate. Despite the fact that all eyes may be on the musician at a concert, the audience is not there to see the musician put a solution to all the world's problems on a platter (although Bono and Bob Geldof will try, no doubt). Verbally bashing a political leader while on stage to play music is on the same level as my hairdresser ranting about why he thinks the government sucks as he's cutting my locks. Yes, for this reason, my friend, this might be why Bono comes across as such an overblown ass. However, I do not discount the possibility that my hairdresser may possess valuable political insights simply because he cuts hair for a living.
As for the musician, who does he or she represent? Themselves, first and foremost, but for a musician as successful as Bono, the connection he has formed with thousands of people around the world, the audience, represents to a certain extent, the greater population. Of course, this connection might be more on an emotional level than it is on a political one. One might contend that this emotion is not a matter for politics, yet I feel that emotion is the very thing that defines our political beliefs and the two cannot and should not be separated. Who made politics some kind of foreign, distant, highbrow concept, an over-intellectualized playground of the elite anyhow? Isn’t politics, quite simply, concerned with the way one feels one deserves to live? It bugs me each time when people say, “Oh, I’m not interested in politics.” Do they mean to say that they’re not interested in living the best life they possibly can (from a secular aspect that is)? Do they mean to say that they’re feeling altogether suicidal? In a so called free and democratic society, why is it that people approach the discussion of politics with such trepidation, as if it’s some kind of sacred ritual of a mysterious, ancient religion, treating our politicians and academic scholars as exalted God-Kings who know better? I do believe that if we do indeed live in a part of the world that is as free and democratic as we claim it to be then there is no such thing as an “outsider” when it comes to political discussion and therefore, a musician, a hairdresser, a student, none of us in theory, should fall outside the arena of debate.
What harm could come from letting Bono say what he has to say? Harm arises from, amongst other things, lack of understanding which partly stems from the fact that we continuously turn a deaf ear to those among the people that actually have the guts to speak up. Perhaps, we would be better off listening. As for Bono, I’m starting to think that it’s just the sunglasses and maybe only the sunglasses that make him a cheeseball.
The creative and the pragmatic worlds are different yes. One paints dreamscapes, yes, while the other constructs (or destroys) landscapes – either way, it’s all in the forces of Yin and Yang. What is in the basic concept of Yin and Yang? They’re complementary opposites, interdependent; yin and yang consume and support eachother and can transform into one another and most importantly, part of yin is in yang and part of yang is in yin. Isn’t this reason enough for congregation between the creative artist and politics?
But of course, there always has to be a line. As controversial British MP George Galloway said in a (fairly) recent Spin Magazine article: “Music stars, movie stars and so on lending their support to campaigns is a really good thing and helps to lift an issue but they mustn’t become the leaders of it because they’re not, frankly, qualified. They can’t make the policy for the campaign because they don’t know enough and therefore people can run rings around them. But this is coming from the middle-aged politician who was on Celebrity Big Brother and performed a cat impression on national TV and wore a red leotard.
Go figure.
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A Portrait of the Politician as a Monkey
We are often of the opinion that politicians are to be blamed for everything that is wrong with the free world. Yet, the direction in which one points the blame is more often than not the direction in which one points for the solution. Could it be that by blaming the politicians, we give them a lot more credit than they deserve?
I found this comment on a blog somewhere (sorry, I can’t remember where or by whom):
I believe that anyone who argues the fate of the free world with the government in the king spot on the chess-board has completely missed the point. The QUEEN is the most powerful and can move in any direction, many squares at once. Transfer this to the world we live in and you'll see that the real culprits are not the government, but the queen big business. She TRULY runs things and is capable of moving across political and international boundaries where politicians and diplomats cannot. The politicians have no real control, they rely on big business to protect them from the knights and bishops, namely soldiers of socialism and the religious collective. As long as there is money, those who wield it will ultimately be in control, and none of our whining and protesting to the politicians will accomplish anything.
Syriana, anyone?
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A Portrait of Law a Monkey Could Get
You are interested in justice?
I'm interested in how people decide what sounds like a law.
So what's your favorite law code?
Hammurabi. Why? Neatness. For example? For example:
"The man who is caught
stealing during a fire shall be thrown into the fire." Isn't that good?—if
there were such a thing
as justice that's what it ought to sound like—short. Clean. Rhythmical. …
- From “Autobiography of Red” by Anne Carson
(based on the story of Geryon by ancient Greek poet, Stesichoros)
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A Portrait of the Reality TV Star as an Artist
Kay Jay, Kay Ray, BITE ME. Here’s more Ryan Star…….
and more....
and more.....
