images (robert altman, 1972)
"You know what you are, you're a schizo."
We're talking about beauty because you told me that you wanted to talk about beauty.
That's not entirely true. All I said was that you've become morose and mundane, constantly talking about the ugly.
But that's because we live in the ugly.
I did not contend that, all I'm saying here is that you've become overly critical recently, and that's no way to start a revolution.
What do you know about revolutions?
Nothing.
I was listening to Slavoj Zizek talk about... oh come on, don't make that face.
Zizek? Really?
Yes. Really. Anyway, he was talking about revolutions and he said something quite interesting.
Which was?
That perhaps we need to think before acting. He said that the twentieth century was a period marked by action with no real thought behind it. Bombs were blown up, coups were held, but with a void of thought regarding what to do next. If you dismantle capitalism, then what is the scaffolding that you put up to take its place. So for the twenty first century we need to think first, perhaps for a long time, before taking any more action.
Ugh. That's so Zizek. 'Carry on people, carry on.'
That's not really what he's saying...
And look at this. I thought we were here to talk about beauty...
I thought you said that's *not* what you were looking for...
...but here we are again, going over the ugly.
So let's talk about beauty then.
What I think is particularly interesting about beauty is the eye of the beholder - how different concepts of beauty mean different things to different people. I'm not a fan of blandtractiveness.
Bland what?
Blandtractiveness - it's a term for the kind of generic standards of beauty that you see in the mainstream. It's what newsreaders look like. Or people who live in the home counties.
Oh God, the worst.
Right? In fact I'd much rather find something hideous, repellent, rather than beige and pleasant.
I remember on the morning that my first child was born...
Isn't it their birthday today?
...why yes, yes it is, thank you for interrupting. Anyway, I remember on their first day on earth I was doing a lot of back and forth - to the shops and back - to home and back to the hospital - so much walking. And on one of these trips I walked past the longest stretch of vomit I'd ever seen in my life. It was something like fifteen or twenty feet in length, and it was June and the Sun was just starting to heat the world up and the light was hazy and I hadn't slept all night and this stretch of puke was just about one of the prettiest things I'd ever seen.
Context is key I guess. If you'd seen that on pretty much any other day you probably wouldn't have been so enchanted.
Absolutely. Impressed? Certainly. But it wouldn't have had the same impact.
That's getting pretty close to the idea that there is no external concept of beauty. That the context and where you're at in your own story at the particular time of encountering the object are everything in what it means to you.
I guess so, but we all know that's not true.
Well, either it isn't true, or something about the everyday experience tends to draw us towards that which is blandtractive.
Actually, that makes sense. Concepts of beauty are fleeting, ephemeral, they change and shift like fashions - so why wouldn't it be that something about the everyday draws us towards particular notions of beauty? Like facetone, veneers, fake tan...
...real tan for that matter. In the past it would have been seen as unsightly. Figures of attraction were pale, kept out of the Sun.
Oh, I was born in the wrong century. I should have been born two hundred years ago.
I should've been born a hundred years in the future.
If we're still here.
We're talking about beauty because you told me that you wanted to talk about beauty.
That's not entirely true. All I said was that you've become morose and mundane, constantly talking about the ugly.
But that's because we live in the ugly.
I did not contend that, all I'm saying here is that you've become overly critical recently, and that's no way to start a revolution.
What do you know about revolutions?
Nothing.
I was listening to Slavoj Zizek talk about... oh come on, don't make that face.
Zizek? Really?
Yes. Really. Anyway, he was talking about revolutions and he said something quite interesting.
Which was?
That perhaps we need to think before acting. He said that the twentieth century was a period marked by action with no real thought behind it. Bombs were blown up, coups were held, but with a void of thought regarding what to do next. If you dismantle capitalism, then what is the scaffolding that you put up to take its place. So for the twenty first century we need to think first, perhaps for a long time, before taking any more action.
Ugh. That's so Zizek. 'Carry on people, carry on.'
That's not really what he's saying...
And look at this. I thought we were here to talk about beauty...
I thought you said that's *not* what you were looking for...
...but here we are again, going over the ugly.
So let's talk about beauty then.
What I think is particularly interesting about beauty is the eye of the beholder - how different concepts of beauty mean different things to different people. I'm not a fan of blandtractiveness.
Bland what?
Blandtractiveness - it's a term for the kind of generic standards of beauty that you see in the mainstream. It's what newsreaders look like. Or people who live in the home counties.
Oh God, the worst.
Right? In fact I'd much rather find something hideous, repellent, rather than beige and pleasant.
I remember on the morning that my first child was born...
Isn't it their birthday today?
...why yes, yes it is, thank you for interrupting. Anyway, I remember on their first day on earth I was doing a lot of back and forth - to the shops and back - to home and back to the hospital - so much walking. And on one of these trips I walked past the longest stretch of vomit I'd ever seen in my life. It was something like fifteen or twenty feet in length, and it was June and the Sun was just starting to heat the world up and the light was hazy and I hadn't slept all night and this stretch of puke was just about one of the prettiest things I'd ever seen.
Context is key I guess. If you'd seen that on pretty much any other day you probably wouldn't have been so enchanted.
Absolutely. Impressed? Certainly. But it wouldn't have had the same impact.
That's getting pretty close to the idea that there is no external concept of beauty. That the context and where you're at in your own story at the particular time of encountering the object are everything in what it means to you.
I guess so, but we all know that's not true.
Well, either it isn't true, or something about the everyday experience tends to draw us towards that which is blandtractive.
Actually, that makes sense. Concepts of beauty are fleeting, ephemeral, they change and shift like fashions - so why wouldn't it be that something about the everyday draws us towards particular notions of beauty? Like facetone, veneers, fake tan...
...real tan for that matter. In the past it would have been seen as unsightly. Figures of attraction were pale, kept out of the Sun.
Oh, I was born in the wrong century. I should have been born two hundred years ago.
I should've been born a hundred years in the future.
If we're still here.