Lost
Excerpts from Charles Taylor in Salon on rootlessness :
"It's as if our anxieties about the headlong pace of technology, of living under the threat of terrorism, of an economy that leaves most of us unsettled long past the age when our parents and grandparents had achieved some semblance of security, about being overwhelmed with choices we're not sure we even want to avail ourselves of, had risen from us like a collective ether and permeated the screen. We are overwhelmed with choices we're not sure we even want to avail ourselves of."
"...the feeling of being lost as the unavoidable consequence of a world in which we can go almost anywhere -- instantly, through virtual means, or in a few hours thanks to air travel. "
"... filter the saturation of images and information, to make some time for contemplation."
"its sense of impermanence as a permanent state, of travel as being a never-ending process, of human connection as both fleeting and profound, of any sense of home having to be achieved in spite of (or because of) an overwhelming sense of rootlessness. "
"It's that peculiar and specific mixture of uncertainty and reassurance, of staking any sense of security on ground that is always shifting, that is at the bottom of these movies. In the beginning of William Gibson's novel "Pattern Recognition" he writes, "She knows, now, absolutely, hearing the white noise that is London, that Damien's theory of jet lag is correct: that the mortal soul is leagues behind her, being reeled in on some ghostly umbilical down the vanished wake of the plane that brought her here, hundreds of thousands of feet above the Atlantic. Souls can't move that quickly, and are left behind, and must be awaited, upon arrival, like lost luggage." The experience of standing at the baggage carousel, fearful that some vital part of us has missed the flight, is the beauty and sadness of these films. "
The nature of our age.
The deception that choice is equivalent to freedom. That volume and speed equals joy. That television sitcom equals friends. That technology replaces relationships.
The Emperor's New Clothes show everything.
Boris, lost but not unhappy.
Berlin 1995.
London 1995.
Singapore needs a David Lynch to reinterpret it. To reveal the strangeness beneath the suburban surface. The ear in the grass.
Thats what is needed to be written.
"It's as if our anxieties about the headlong pace of technology, of living under the threat of terrorism, of an economy that leaves most of us unsettled long past the age when our parents and grandparents had achieved some semblance of security, about being overwhelmed with choices we're not sure we even want to avail ourselves of, had risen from us like a collective ether and permeated the screen. We are overwhelmed with choices we're not sure we even want to avail ourselves of."
"...the feeling of being lost as the unavoidable consequence of a world in which we can go almost anywhere -- instantly, through virtual means, or in a few hours thanks to air travel. "
"... filter the saturation of images and information, to make some time for contemplation."
"its sense of impermanence as a permanent state, of travel as being a never-ending process, of human connection as both fleeting and profound, of any sense of home having to be achieved in spite of (or because of) an overwhelming sense of rootlessness. "
"It's that peculiar and specific mixture of uncertainty and reassurance, of staking any sense of security on ground that is always shifting, that is at the bottom of these movies. In the beginning of William Gibson's novel "Pattern Recognition" he writes, "She knows, now, absolutely, hearing the white noise that is London, that Damien's theory of jet lag is correct: that the mortal soul is leagues behind her, being reeled in on some ghostly umbilical down the vanished wake of the plane that brought her here, hundreds of thousands of feet above the Atlantic. Souls can't move that quickly, and are left behind, and must be awaited, upon arrival, like lost luggage." The experience of standing at the baggage carousel, fearful that some vital part of us has missed the flight, is the beauty and sadness of these films. "
The nature of our age.
The deception that choice is equivalent to freedom. That volume and speed equals joy. That television sitcom equals friends. That technology replaces relationships.
The Emperor's New Clothes show everything.
Boris, lost but not unhappy.
Berlin 1995.
London 1995.
Singapore needs a David Lynch to reinterpret it. To reveal the strangeness beneath the suburban surface. The ear in the grass.
Thats what is needed to be written.
posted by BorisEarTh at Tuesday, August 10, 2004
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