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Wednesday, April 30, 2003 12:10 I'm at home listening to this really nice song from the latest album by Elza Soares: Dor de CotoveloJealousy (ciúmes) and/or its related sentiment Envy (inveja) have a nickname in Portuguese: 'pain in the elbow' (dor de cotovelo). This song was written by Caetano Veloso. It lists the ways with which jealousy poetically affects different parts of the body and how, at one point, it 'hurts out' into the landscape. I am generally immune to jealousy. Portuguese is my mother tongue. It's a beautiful song. It turns on a white light in your navel / you start loving the enemy / and become the enemy of love link | |
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Tuesday, April 29, 2003 00:25 I am just back from the première of Werner Herzog's Wheel of Time, produced in cooperation with the Dutch Buddhist Broadcast Foundation. The film is a documentary about the traditional Buddhist initiation ceremony Kalachakra celebrated last year both in Bodh Gaya, India and in Graz, Austria. Four hundred thousand pilgrims converged on Bodh Gaya (some by foot or even crawling for months in a row) to the tree where the Buddha is believed to have achieved his enlightenment. As it's often the case when I see Buddhists together, people looked in a jolly good mood, healthy and very busy: the ceremony involves a multitude of activities (praying, cooking, chanting, debating), all performed on a huge scale in what seemed to be a small rural village (oddly similar to my own Lowlands experience last summer). The film is very low-key, narrated in English by Herzog himself speaking with a pronounced German accent. It feels sort of disorganized, maybe thanks to the nature of the event itself, but it's still a pleasure to watch. There are especially beautiful scenes of the pilgrimage around the base of Mount Kailash in western Tibet. ![]() ![]() Mount Kailash, photo courtesy of Claus Qvist / Samuel Delany as seen in his book sleeve Gabriëlle and I left as soon as the movie ended, both obviously not in the mood for the serious networking that promised to take place. I had already spent part of my day in a Dutch train reading Samuel Delany's notes comparing the properties of 'networking' and 'contact' as two different modalities of social interaction, roughly 'networking' being what happens in a writers' conference (or a movie première) and 'contact' what can happen in the queue of a grocery store (or in a sex cinema). Delany draws his conclusions from three decades attending both writer's conferences and porn theaters: The reason the networking situation is not likely to produce the sometimes considerable rewards that can result from contact situations is that the amount of need present in the networking situation is too high for the comparatively few individuals in a position to supply the much needed boons and favors to distribute them in any equitable manner. At the pleasant chatty cash bar reception closing out the first day of panels and workshops at the writer's conference, in may look like a friendly and sociable gathering. At precisely the socioeconomic level (Symbolic, if you will) where the class war occurs, however, you have a situation analogous to a crowd of seventy-five or a hundred beggars pressed around a train station in some underdeveloped colonial protectorate, while a handful of burgeois tourists make their way through, hoping to find a taxi to take them off to the hotel before they are set upon and torn to pieces.The text is part of Delany's book Times Square Red, Times Square Blue, two essays about the impact of the Times Square rezoning plan on the sort of social interaction that used to take place in that area. What makes me so enthusiastic about all this is that Delany's definition of interclass contact and his argumentation in its favour go right to the core of many of my own research interests: social nudity, casual sex and other sorts of physical interaction in what I call public-body-space. Times Square Red, Times Square Blue helped me clarify my thoughts towards them as no other work I've read so far. A few weeks ago, while I still was in New York, I found myself looking at Delany's doorbell on the upper west side, not far from Joe's apartment (the book mentions the location of his building) and telling myself it would be polite to first make some sort of contact and only then to ring it – on my next visit. link | |
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Monday, April 28, 2003 12:29 Three things of today 1 status Right now I'm living in one big instead of operation 2 quote "I now go often to BJ's page, since you don't write anymore" (Eddi, yesterday) 3 partakable feelings camaraderie is one of the nicest properties of a place or a city and being able to experience it may be a good reason for choosing whether to be here or there. link | |
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Tuesday, April 01, 2003 16:47 It´s almost noon and I´m on a Internet terminal in the old city center on Rua Benjamim Constant, close to where my father used to have his office many years ago and just a few meters from Catedral da Sé. I had an appointment with my mom at 11:00 and she was a bit late so I stood on the sidewalk observing the passersby and the stuff that goes on in the streets of the centro. This little story took place in about three minutes: As I arrived to the meeting place I was approached by a tiny lady and her granddaughter (I assume), one ca. 60 or 70 and very wrinkled and the other ca. 15. Both were white. The lady wore a red woolen sweater and called me sir and asked if I could buy them a R$ 0,70 sandwich because they were hungry. My first reaction was to say no I´m sorry, probably because she was sort of blunt and positioned herself a bit too close to me. I also think that for a second I didn´t believe there would be any sandwhich for that price. So she moved on to the next and the next and the next person, all of them in a hurry and all saying no as soon as they would listen to her question (most people did stop and listen). I was still waiting for my appointment so I just kept watching the two of them walking along the busy sidewalks trying and trying. I then noticed that, across the street, one of the several snack bars had indeed a sign offering ´greek barbecue´ (shoarma) sandwiches for R$ 0,70 (ca. EUR 0,20). Feeling awkward I walked to lady and offered her R$ 2,00 for their lunch. She took the money, thanked me and said "You´ve been looking, did you see? Did you see how had it is? It´s really so hard". The girl never said a word. A few minutes later I was still waiting when I glimpsed them crossing the street, the lady carrying what seemed to be a wrapped sandwich. I looked away and felt I had no right to observe them any longer. link | |
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