Phillip Thomas. 6'1", 215 lbs.
Showing posts with label Deportes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Deportes. Show all posts
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Soccer, Ceramics, Antisemitism, and Semiotics
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| Giorgos Katidis |
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| Forgiveness. Charles Krafft, 2012 |
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| The September 1973 cover of the National Lampoon |
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| My first encounter with the symbols of the Third Reich |
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| He looks pretty clueless here |
An analysis of Katidis' tatoos can perhaps give us a clue to his philosophy. The body art would not look out of place on any young urbanite, although it would perhaps draw snickers from the Bushwick crowd.
These are not curated boutique tattoos, but the kind of stuff folks come home from Ocean City with. He seems to have some vaguely Christian stuff on his forearms, and some kind of anime or bande dessinee inspired image of people making out on his left bicep. He has two tats written in English that look like the flash was made on Microsoft Word. One says, "Never Give Up" and the other is 50 Cent's motto, "Get Rich or Die Tryin'". There doesn't seem to be any fascist or nationalist symbology. So, probably not a Nazi, just dumb.
Dumb kid or not, Katidis' pastiche of tattoos and willingness to use a Nazi salute without any political motivation point to a greater truth about the nature of semiotics in contemporary art and society. Katidis appears to have selected his tattoos purely on an aesthetic basis, without any regard to the meanings attached to their symbols. He seems to be unaware of any cognitive dissonance created by a Christian tattoo and one of 50 Cent's acquisitive mantra on the same body, and perhaps there is none. The inclusion of Charles Krafft's work in many prominent public collections seems to be a product of a similar relationship with semiotics.
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| Anselm Kiefer. Besetzungen (Occupations), 1969. |
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| Josef Beuys. Aktion, 1964. |
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| Gerhard Richter. Uncle Rudi, 1965. |
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| Charles Krafft. Hitler-Idaho Teapot, 2003 |
The point of this essay is not to condemn Katidis, Krafft, or Krafft's collectors on moral grounds, but to examine the separate events for clues to nature of semiotics in contemporary art and society. One of Baudrillard's central theses is that the postmodern condition is defined by the precession of simulacra, that signs have become unmoored from and replaced the reality which they originally represented. The "use-value" has been replaced by the "exchange-value". The iconography of Nazism is no longer tied to the reality of Nazism.
If this is the case, then both Katidis and Krafft's collectors are merely acquiring signs based on their "exchange-value" instead of making political statements. What is the "exchange-value" of Nazi imagery? According to Baudrillard "it's all capital", but what kind? We could perhaps research the prices of Katidis' tattoos, the value of his professional contract, or the prices Krafft received for his work. This purely material analysis seems incomplete, somehow. Is the real "exchange-value" of a swastika attention and notoriety rather than money? Both Katidis and Krafft have been catapulted from a regional fame to the front pages of the Internet in short order. There is something of Warhol's "fifteen minutes of fame" in these mercurial ascents.
There has been much talk of the death of irony in the decade since September 11th. However, the death of irony does not necessarily mean a return to earnestness. The ironic use of a sign requires you to fully understand its meaning in order to create the cognitive dissonance required of irony. Is this better or worse than Katidis' blithe ignorance or Krafft's apparently earnest use of Nazi imagery?
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Super Bowl!!!: Punt return of the repressed
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| Coach John Harbaugh kisses his running back Ray Rice after defeating the Denver Broncos to advance to the AFC championship. |
The Super Bowl is 7 days away! 30-second commercials will cost between 3.7 and 3.8 million dollars. The cost of these ad buys gives us an idea of the importance of the Super Bowl in the American cultural landscape. In this era of fracturing audiences and internet-driven compartmentalization, there is still one show that Americans watch together, simultaneously. Many of these people are not regular football watchers. Quite a few will be watching the disjointed action and the seemingly arbitrary enforcement of the arcane rules and wonder: What is the big fuckin' deal?
The Super Bowl falls on Feb. 3, close to the pagan holiday of Imbolc. However, it is important to understand the Super Bowl as a Solstice event. The college bowl games, which the Super Bowl is a more highly capitalized version of, traditionally occur between Christmas and New Year's. The Rose Bowl, the original bowl game, is pegged to New Year's day. The Super Bowl has been pushed back from the Solstice because of the extended (In 1970, only eight teams were included in the playoffs. By 1990, 12 teams were involved.) playoff period. The league extended the playoff period to generate more ad revenue.
The Super Bowl is essentially a battle between two teams to see who will represent darkness and the old year (the losers) and who will embody the new year and the Sun child ("I'm going to Disneyworld!"). There are also important connections to the ancient Roman solstice festival of Saturnalia. The inversion of social norms was an important part of Saturnalia, and these inversions are an important part of the Super Bowl as well. This is best embodied by the players dumping Gatorade on the coach after the victory is sealed. The servant/master relationship is upended as surely as the orange vessel itself. These violations of social norms are the primary attraction of the Super Bowl. This is what is so compelling to so many viewers.
Football is a celebration of the male body, which is normally subject to tight control by society. The destructive potential and rampant sexuality of the male body are kept in check by obligations and laws. This energy is channeled into physical labor beneficial to the community. In the game of football, the obligations and laws of society are represented by the submission of the players to the coaches and officials. This theme of the male body under control is reiterated by the frequent advertisements for domestic pickups. It is no accident that many pickup owners decorate their trailer hitches with plastic testicles.
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| Ray Lewis cries |
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| Ray Lewis gets a little closer to Steve Bisciotti. |
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Holy Shit, Football
Last night, the Cowboys beat the Giants 24-10 with a couple of key catches from UVA/Queens product Kevin Ogletree. I hate the Cowboys. I don't really know why, I just do. Hate is a strong emotion.
The last year has basically been one long and convincing argument about how deeply wrong, fucked up, and stupid football is. I have never been more conflicted about watching football.
Is football basically one of those contemporary things that you do even though you know someone is getting hurt or killed for it? Like filling up your gas tank or buying a smartphone?
Yes, and maybe it always has been. Perhaps without it, the nation's latent homoerotic and mechanophiliac tendencies would explode into a second and completely chaotic Civil War.
I still hate the fucking Cowboys.
The last year has basically been one long and convincing argument about how deeply wrong, fucked up, and stupid football is. I have never been more conflicted about watching football.
Is football basically one of those contemporary things that you do even though you know someone is getting hurt or killed for it? Like filling up your gas tank or buying a smartphone?
Yes, and maybe it always has been. Perhaps without it, the nation's latent homoerotic and mechanophiliac tendencies would explode into a second and completely chaotic Civil War.
I still hate the fucking Cowboys.
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