08 November 2007
request for free analysis! plus eisenstein and vertov
Read Owen on Eisenstein: 'Eisenstein once wanted to install small electric shocks in the seats, in one of many ideas that imply a technofied version of the circus'. Perhaps we should try that next time we show films...which, as it happens, we'll be doing this weekend at the Historical Materialism conference. There's a Vertov session convened by myself and Owen tomorrow, with special (erm, in an equal kind of way) guest Jonathan Beller as respondent. We are showing Enthusiasm, and two animations, 'Lenin Kino Pravda' and 'Soviet Toys'. We'll also be operating the DVD player for all other films during the weekend, like the technically-minded comrades we so clearly are not.
In other news, Robin sent me this particularly fine piece of German Philosophy (UPDATE: as in, not really German philosophy, but Danish, but in keeping according to some spurious generalisations or other)/Pig theory:
'I am like a Lüneburger pig. My thinking is a passion. I can root up truffles excellently for other people, even if I get no pleasure out of them myself. I dig the problems out with my nose, but the only thing I can do with them is to throw them back over my head.' - Kierkegaard, The "Either"
Kira O'Reilly in another pig picture: hugging dead pork at the taxpayers' expense - YESSSSSS!
On the topic of slightly disturbing things, I was wondering if any of my Freudian/Lacanian readers might care to offer an interpretation of a certain dream I've been having for about fifteen years. I'll send a CD to the person with the most inventive analysis! (having just been back to Wiltshire to pick up the rest of my stuff - turns out I have a gigantic and extremely extensive collection of mid-90s US indie rock and other assorted whimsy. Who knew?)
Whilst not exactly identical each time, the dream basically has exactly the same pattern, with slight variation: I am supposed to look after a baby, sometimes it belongs to someone I know, other times its parentage is unclear. Sometimes it is a boy, sometimes a girl. What always happens is that the child shrinks, from time to time becoming invisible, and turns into some sort of insect, a spider or (as last night) a pupa (update: d'oh - singular is pupa, not pupae). It always gets lost or dies - and I am always responsible! What do you think? Horror of motherhood? Cronenbergian disgust at the organicism of human life? Something to do with the phallus (I am reliably informed that babies 'mean' this). Or something else? Furthermore, how do I get rid of it?! And don't suggest years of analysis - not enough time or money. I want a quick fix solution, dammit!
