Showing posts with label lower. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lower. Show all posts

30 July 2012

on street art in NYC

I am yesterday come direct from New York City (NYC), that fair, Mid-Atlantic island-metropolis. Being a purveyor of street art, and a person who collects images of these most fleeting slivers of mankind's dazzlingly bountiful imagination, posting them occasionally at urbanartuploads.blogspot.com, it is my rote to explore a city's avoided and trash-strewn places, taking pictures of any graffiti I find living there. Having collected street art in Berlin, Los Angeles, Amsteram, Philadelphia, Long Beach, San Diego, Flagstaff, Albuquerque, Tampa, Boston, and, most recently, in New York, I have amassed an internal sense-knowledge-base of the many different and various trends, techniques, and habits that graffiti writers tend to exhibit; ergo, I believe I can gain a rapid understanding of a city's predominant trends-in-vandalism from seeing but a small portion of the overall milieu.

Perhaps I was in the wrong areas (Hunter's Point, Long Island City, and Manhattan), or perhaps I was on the wrong streets (primarily down Broadway from 42nd to Battery Park, and near the World Trade Center), but most images (except for those examples that will be uploaded to urbanartuploads.tumblr.com in about three months, due to backlog) that I managed to capture were obtained from only a handful of areas around town, including near Canal Street, on the Lower East Side, and in the East and West Villages; the rest of Manhattan was either swept clean of its no-charge-to-the-consumer open-air-art-galleries or the police forces of certain areas are so adept at patrolling and desecrating the works of art that street artists labor to apply there that these clever vandals know well enough to stay away.

Compared, moreover, to the cities mentioned above, Manhattan's street artists seem to prefer primarily self-adhesive name badges sold by one of the major office-supply chain stores, upon which they write – in nearly illegible, seemingly gang-or-crew-specific script – their own names, identifying numbers, or the name of the group or home area. (Such stickers were seen primarily in parts of NYC with little to no other graffiti, as opposed to graffiti-rich areas, which exhibited such profusion of street art that the aforementioned stickers became all but invisible against the colorful and riotous backdrop of other works). Whereas in, say, Los Angeles, one finds curious and strange examples of graffiti adorning otherwise-blank surfaces in nearly every part of the city, whether in the financial district, in the heart of Hollywood, or in the sleepier parts of Koreatown, graffiti in New York tends to be applied to almost any available surface – adorned or blank, private or public – that happens to be in arm's reach of the sidewalk. Whereas in most other cities graffiti-writers generally apply their works of art to the backs of street-signs, to public utility-boxes, or to hatches and those metal doors that cover access panels – mostly avoiding stuccoed or painted surfaces – in NYC, vandals appear to not give a fuck about what they spray over with their pressurized paints, which pisses off the city's property owners.

Persons looking for high-quality street art in New York City will do well to avoid the shiny and the well-swept areas, preferring rather the grimier and less-well-kept areas, which will exhibit such bountiful and beautiful examples of graffiti as one might expect from a world-class city such as the Big Apple. Just remember to stoop slow, to revel in the filth, and to keep your head on a swivel, because the NYPD is alert, and it is everywhere.

場黑麥 mentiri manufactorem fecit

09 April 2012

on America's legal numbers racket


Attention lottery-loving citizens of America: stop playing the lottery. Before the federal and state governments confiscated the system from organized crime, the lottery was called the numbers racket; then, as now, it is a crooked game run by crooked scum that hoodwink financially destitute, money-obsessed, weak-willed people into forking over their hard-earned cash for a return of roughly ten cents on the dollar.

If you play this state-run racket thinking that you are doing the right thing, if you participate in this legalized crime hoping to strike it fabulously rich, then you shall lose more than just money – you shall lose the last, fraying shreds of your dignity. If you are hoping for wealth, all you shall get is sadness. If you think that maybe, just this once, it will be you announcing to the world how fantastically wealthy you are, then you shall be terribly mistaken. The states that run lotteries are quick to claim that proceeds from their lotteries benefit the infirm, the sick, or the elderly. In truth, however, the very people who can least afford to play the lottery – people on food stamps, Welfare, or fixed incomes, and those who work low-paying jobs – these are the people who grow poorer with each purchase of a lottery ticket. It is upon these people that the state-run numbers racket preys, in part through ludicrous and vile advertising campaigns that tells the lower classes: Today could be your lucky day, so just buy a ticket already – you never know!

Today can be your lucky day, as can tomorrow, because every day spent not obsessing over money is a lucky day, and because true fortune comes by expressing your natural abilities through diligent, focused, and honest labor. Do not play the lottery, because if you do, you will allow an external, fickle, and dishonest source to dictate your Happiness, you will engage in state-sanctioned criminal behavior, you will prove your bovine-like docility by doing anything that the crowd does, and you will show that you are a slave to the shifting winds of chance. Do not be a slave: be a self-reliant, self-respecting citizen. Live simply, live frugally, and steer clear of the crooked numbers rackets.

場黑麥 ioanni elymucampus fecit