Friday, June 9, 2017

Ich Bin H2Omeloncholy

VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2017 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com
© 2017 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.
Inline image 3
© 1939 Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer

A gift, most gentlesoulfolk.  Tied in a ruby-slipper-ed-hued...blood-red...H2Omelon-red bow.  What else to call those occurrences in Actuality (as we know it) when the absurdist flag waves - makin' quite the flap in the surrealist breeze?  With nary a tweak by any mortal, too unqualified and unimaginative to usurp the implausible As Is of-it-all.  A happening: untouched as unsound.

C'mon, now, my good peops.  Dorothy's house lands on a Wicked Witch - right after expressing healthy curiosity "over the (queered) rainbow".  Doña Rosa's house 'lands' in Berlin as an indictment of yon American Dream's urban blight in conjunction with a disregard for our young nation's Civil Rights legacy.  Couldn't find a seat on a Southern bus - in life - nor foundation for her Northern home - after death.  Eva displaced - a heroine in her own nation.  Dorothy, bored in Kansas, lands 'on' Oz's alleged dictator.  'Twixt Thomas Frank (What's the Matter With Kansas?: How Conservatives Won the Heart of America, 2004) or L. Frank Baum (The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, 1900), who proved mo' 'Frank' in his framing of a country's heartland?  Who was mo' adept at tracking how its arrhythmia impacts its health?  The gingham-donned niece of Kansas is heralded by oppressed Munchkins for breaking up a coven of a sister act, killing feminized 'evil'.  Doña Rosa's house, carried by the tornado of economic Darwinism that is Capitalism's underbelly, via hyper-symptomatic Detroit, lands upon a gentrified graveyard, of sorts.  Turkey or Cambodia or Bosnia or Rwanda or (Myanmar?) ...or...or... notwithstanding, Doña Rosa's neo-patch of planet is widely considered the most symbolic ghost of genocidal 'evil'.  "Ding-dong" dead yet the spirit resurrects - at present - in the neo-threat of some resurgence of nationalism. Yet n' still?  'Tis, indeed, a Berlin garden providing sanctuary for the abandoned abode of an icon.  

                 Inline image 2
PRINT MAGAZINE article, These Boots Are Made For Walking, Walking Over You, 09.27.2011

Art - of the absurdist variety - to the rescue.  In this case?  One artist: Ryan Mendoza.  And one city: Berlin.  Berlin, like Winnipeg, Johannesburg, and Adelaide, engages the R-word: Reconciliation.  One cannot verify if Munchkins constitute the Indigenous or First Oz inhabitants.  Nevadaless, from Canada to South Africa to Australia, "Reconciliation", the word and official 'way', is oft joined with "Truth".  R. Mendoza, an American artist, also a Berlin transplant, accepted the donation from Parks’ niece, Rhea McCauley, after her five-hundred dollar purchase of the dilapidated structure.  Mendoza dismantled it, plank by plank, to then ship the prefab 'crib' overseas where it might serve as duel art installation and social commentary.  A few leaves, Emerald-City-green in spring and Yellow-Brick-Road-hued in fall, scratch the white-curtained windows looking out upon history-saturated Berlin - once ground zero for a World War's dystopic anti-Oz.  What the French might reference: théâtre de l'absurde.  To misquote hip-hop pioneers, Run-D.M.C:
"Whose house?  Runs Rosa's house!"

                   
              © 1939 Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer                                      Rosa Parks' Detroit dwelling, #2672, 'relocated' to Berlin as art exhibition

Post-struggle Sixties, 2672 South Deacon Street was the humbled locale were archactivist, Rosa Parks (1913 - 2005) took shelter.  Could Detroit prove a haven from Jim Crow death threats?  Alas, a casualty of the 2008 subprime crisis, the hallowed as condemned property stood its ground - as its famed inhabitant had done on a bus.  Her stance, in 1955, fought the vestiges of the empire that was the institution of slavery; manufacturing empire's Romanesque ruins dot blocks in Detroit.  Wall Street was first an unpaved Road, exploited by those privileged enough to Follow the Yellow Brick Mason Dixon cotton, Appalachian coal, and Pittsburgh steel.  Who might have conjectured - prior to NAFTA, i. e., the abolition of the 'Merican factory - that the destiny of Parks' home might also be contingent upon a destination beyond borders?  'Twould seem - or suggest - outsourcing knows no bounds, indiscriminate in its sweep and breath, undeterred by even an inclination to maintain - stateside - an allegedly potential Civil Rights' monument.  Parks' surviving family was unsuccessful in soliciting city investment for historical landmark status or even tempting Ethnic-Other-ed celebrity philanthropy.  Despite their othawise valiant attempts at preservation, demolition was imminent.  Until Mendoza.  Off to Berlin, whose own graffitied brick wall fell in 1989 whilst 'Merica votes, in 2016, to erect a barrier betwixt itself and neighbor, Mexico.  The links...sweet links...below 'connect' the dear reader to an international German outlet, DW News, carried on some US public television stations.  Albeit Mendoza's outsourced muse was reported in 'Merican publications from The Smithsonian to The Washington Postone chose to defer to the coverage in the land in which the house now stands.

Parks' family:
           http://www.dw.com/en/why-rosa-parks-house-now-stands-in-berlin/a-38343924
Mendoza:

           http://www.dw.com/en/artist-brings-rosa-parks-house-to-berlin/av-38318130

Since absurdity lacks an existential rationale, the current transatlantic 'status' of 2672 South Deacon soars upon a remnant - ridiculous: the surreal wings of an epithet-ed monkey.

                        

In esteemed acknowledgment of, and alliance with, all gender-equity promoting Trans visibility, one respectfully redirects absurd attention to the original prefix.  Consider, if ye will, "trans", in any benign context of its root definition: "across" or "beyond".  Is Parks' trans-'base' occupyin' some kinda quantum dimension?  Or doomed to remain a phantom base or baseless Waiting chase For a Godot who shall neva grace "all the world's stage"?*

Mendoza named a similar former residence, recycled as art piece: The White House.  The project was not devoid of controversy.  Some critique was intellectual in nature, referencing 'appropriation' concerns.  Other detractors were more culturally inclined to conceivable
 exploitation of a community.  For the practically bent, citing inconvenience to local residents was a priority.  All arguments hold their relevance and are, by no means, disregarded.  Howe'er, here, Mendoza has effectively incited an absurdist's coup - literally in his own Berlin background.  Any tension, then, is tentatively welcome; the complexity challenges the conscience.  How we each choose to rise to that challenge affirms Art's intent.  

http://www.whitehousefilm.net/

One pauses - reverently as reflectively yet above all, absurdly - tip-toein' across this minefield melon field...
     
Dorothy, in a field, meeting a scarecrow robbed of mind                                                    © 1997 Tim Rooke/Rex
                                                                                                                            Princess Diana strolling an Angolan live minefield:
                                                                                                                               raising awareness for children robbed of limbs   

Some two-thousand years back, Roman philosopher, Gaius Plinius Secundus or Pliny the Elder (AD 23 - AD 79) mused: "Home is where the heart is."  Today?  'Home' may be google-mapped inside the hollowed tin 'round one's respective heart.  'Home' is the core of any well-organized website.  'Visitors' begin 'at home' yet instinctively seek the menu to move beyond.  Encouraged to search, 'users' might even be thanked for visitation.  One click - not of ruby slippers but tech apparatus - returns the visitor/user 'home'.  A home, at its optimum, should not be taxing, but restorative.  Daresay, grounding.  A house, howeva, accumulates taxes that come due. 

Outside 'the' home, our identity-politicized zeitgeist has embraced the term, "safe space", or rather, the creation/maintenance of such space on college campuses, workplaces, and even public lavatories.  The implication and equation of empathetic inclusiveness of 'diversity' as 'safe' speaks to, perchance, some increased awareness of social dynamics comprising a 'sound' framework within those walls regulated by government and industry construction.  

One cannot know if the late Rosa Parks might have, at the very least, nodded towards 'H2Omeloncholic' as some viable descriptor for her own space on the planet.  Space - as contention - seems a theme here tho', yo.  Even has a theme song from The Wiz, HOME.  The original Dorothy's privilege could wonder past the 'rainbow' - from black and white film to 1939 technicolor.  (*1939: a central year in Berlin for Third Reich housing policies*).  The demographic of that 1975 Wiz?  Celluloid rainbows pale in comparison to justice in full spectrum.  "There's no place like" that which remains (like authentic citizenship) illusive or volatile.  From entitlement to sit on public transportation to an appropriate memorial for her physical address, was Parks' 'space' eva 'safe'?  Was it settled or nigh the holistic notion of Reconstructed-forty-acre-ed-mule-ed settlement?  Or did Parks neva 'park', remaining in perpetual migration - even post-mortem?  Had she clicked her heels, where might Parks have arrived?  Might she have reached her melon field Elysian Field or global community garden thru shedding her 'last e'?  Refugee, minus its 'last e', spells refuge.  With the Wizard exposed as the cipher of man's very infallibility, what 'she' had all along was the key to liberation.  No seat at the front of a bus = an acclaimed seat at quite a legendary table.  In Da Struggle, Rosa Parks plays such a high-profile part.  Alas, sans a piece of her own place or 'part' of spatial agency, may she rest in peace.  And may we stay.  Stay riled up until her space - too - is secured.

*  "All the world's a stage
    And all the men and women merely players; 
    They have their exits and their entrances, 
    And one man in his time plays many parts...
Shakespeare, As You Like It,  Act II, Scene 7 


from Holocaust Education & Archive Research Team -

page, BERLIN: THE CITY and the HOLOCAUST:

"Also in December 1938, the evacuation of Jews from residences in the prestigious parts of Berlin was launched, the official pretext being Albert Speer’s plans for the re-building of Berlin. At that point the Jewish community’s housing advisory office – which was subject to city police orders – was given wide powers regarding the housing of Berlin’s Jews.

In the final stages when the community was being liquidated, the data accumulated by that office was a major source for drawing up the lists of Jews to be deported to the death camps."


a clever as compassionate critique 
on the implausibility 
of POSTness


Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...

© 2017 KM Fikes 
© 2017 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com 
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.


















                                            

Sunday, February 12, 2017

breakfast at melon-y


VOGUE copyright Conde Nast

© 2017 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com
© 2017 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.


Yerba Buena Center for the Arts poses a question to Bay Area artists, January 2016:

"If you could begin to DESIGN FREEDOM, what would you make or do?
OR
How do you get free?
OR
What is your 21st century abolitionist issue?
OR
What grand gestures do we need to create to drive us to the future we imagine? 

Feel FREE to be bold, provocative or make trouble here."
© 2016 KM Fikes
(*original copyrights reserved for Breakfast at Tiffany motion picture opening still & Josephine Baker portrait*)



Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...



a clever as compassionate critique
on the implausibility of
POSTness 

© 2017 KM Fikes 
© 2017 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com 

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.



melon on the march

VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2017 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com
© 2017 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.


Humming a Doobie Bros. anthem, 'women' are "takin' it to the streets".  Does the urgency of the moment render intersectionality mute or contrarily, perhaps, blare 'inclusion' thru a bullhorn?

Angela Peoples holding sign (credit: Kevin Banatte)


Juicy!  Won't even ask what flavor of the lollipop as one assumes or appropriates H2Omelon.  Divisive or descriptive?  Ye tell me, most gentlesoulfolk.  If Power needs Truth to speak to it, this image may "be worth a thousand words" in three selfies and one click lick. 

One ponders further as one's aim is not to isolate, infuriate, but rather engage that loftiest of goals: altruistic enlightenment.  May bulbs light it up, yo.  Pop on 'over our heads'.  Yet any mindset, be it pussy-capped-clueless or melon-scented-n'-'sucker'-sugar-rushed, must be accounted for and present.  Showing up.  Fully.  All of me - right along wit' ye - in a collective, cohesive 'we'.

With HER head & arms chopped off, Nike of Antiquity speaks - at once - to invisibility of ethnic-Other-ed, XX-chromo agents, as well as alludes to alleged, Dominate Cult, cis feminist focus on body parts to the exclusion of societal structures under which all bodies - barely 'whole' - must navigate.  Granted, Goddess Nike's origins are Greek.  A fact embraced for the very purpose of this post as well as all due accolades to Lesbos, Greece.  Her residents are literally the very Olympian Mount heroes rescuing drowned refugees despite their own Austerity woes.  Humanity at its height.  Ergo, in honor, hey, one presents the following image - for the next protest: 

 

The epitomes commercial logo, Nike's 'swoosh,' was designed in 1971 by Carolyn Davidson, then a design student at - likely liberal - Portland State University.  The unknown apparel company couldn't afford to pay much so they...eh-hem...gave her stock in their venture.  With Nike, the Goddess of Victory, as a guide, she focused on what was left of the original statue: a woman's unbroken wing.  In 'movement'.  Gotta dig all that back story.

Ay, eva the back.  Even farther for some?  The wind behind that winged back.  Too oft deemed an ill wind for her bluster.  Blunt as the brunt or the forefront of Oppression.  All whilst sequestered to the corners of Resistance.  Ick-a-bods. Headless Pegasuswomen do what we do: just fly by night to fright.  Fear, though, is far from our intent.  So far that we no longer make it our bidness if any are scared.  We haunt.  We haunt for the same reason that any phantom presence does.  When between the realms of apparition and Nike 'air' apparent, haunting forces remembrance of the past, recalibration of the present, and revolution in the future.  We haunt.  We haunt unripe-melon-pink yarn in knitting needles.  Every thread (laid) bare?  Pearl Purl one; spook two.



a clever as compassionate critique
on the implausibility
of POSTness


Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...


© 2017 KM Fikes 
© 2017 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com 

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.


Monday, November 14, 2016

monday morning melonbacking

VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2016 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com
© 2016 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.


NON-VOTER SF Forty-Niner quarterback, Colin Kaepernick's kneeling protest of National Anthem



Dot org.  The most convenient - daresay, cozy armchair - form of protest today.  Enter name; send means solved.

Change.org is collecting signatures to prompt electors to reflect the popular vote when they convene on December 19 for the Electoral Collage to officially deliver the 2016 Presidenital 'results'.  Secretary Clinton is currently leading as that very 'current' continues to rise in her favor.  According to the National Popular Vote Tracker, as of this Monday, 11/14, Trump's 60,637,350 trails her 61,422,098. 
http://cookpolitical.com/story/10174

A projected estimate, perhaps, doubles the difference when all is said, done, and counted.  'Projections', though?  My good peops, 'projections' ain't eva befo' been this suspect.  Always kinda deemed 'projection' as some psycho-babble: what we project on others and they conversely project on us.  This projection is oft false - too mired in our biases to see The Other with the clarity required to get down with what be real.  Politics seem to have arrived at a caustic impasse wherein an objective number of votes and subjective, slanted 'gaze' prove sho' sooth synonyms.  This current melee is tantamount to our alien-green Statue of Liberty having a wardrobe malfunction.   

Now, one 'gets' it, my noble gentlesoulfolk.  And how.

How...eva, one also finds this desperate dive across the electoral line - a dot org mea culpa, if ye will - failing to one, sharp degree.  As difficult as this is to type, let alone think, President Ele...(cough, cough)...Elec...(cough), President Elect Trump won.  He won fair n' square.  His supporters deserve their moment.  Many, thy humble blogger included, are presently feeling the identical blow that Obama-detractors experienced upon his win - twice over.  Before the concise triumph of 2008, there was that swingin' Floridian chad.  We ALL failed.  Not acting in November/December of 2000 was a colossal mistake.  Sorta like voting half-way.  Before the stroke of 2001, we should have addressed the archaic, inane Electoral College with more than quaterback-ed, armchair critique.  Same scenario with Gore winning the popular vote by approximately half a million.  We should have ALL insisted then - yes, then - that the popular vote spoke the true will of the demos.  Alas, nope, we did not.  And even allowed a conservative Supreme Court to decide our folly.  'W's first term was selected, not elected.  Gore conceded.  We followed suit but went even further: cursing the Electoral College yet inexplicably leaving it intact to thwart our most basic democratic principle. 

One utterly agrees with every squirm about this dastardly decision.  Nevadaless, when one spies a Confederate flag, one knows (especially as an XX-chromo H2Omeloncholic agent) that at the most, one is supposed to feel threatened, and at the least, insulted.  Contrarily, what really glides thru one's mind?: "You...or your ancestors...lost.  You simply lost.  The Civil War?  Over!  And lost fair n' square.  You are waving the tattered flag of Denial."  The South is not isolated in its refusal to accept reality.  The Obama Administration, in its final year, begins to lift Cuba's embargo.  Phew!  Utterly ridiculous that it lasted so long.  Why?  A proud nation just couldn't accept that we lost the Bay of Pigs.  We lost; we did.  And of all thangs?  To 'them'.  Accept it.  

And accept when we lose because we have been apathetic.  When we don't empathize, we suffer - all of us.  The Dem donkeys forgot to empathize with white angst - created from blue-stated NAFTA that neighed loud, decimating manufacturing employment.  This moment is pin-to-needle painful but one must wonder if the progressive e-fight isn't whining the day after.  We agreed to these dysfunctional terms of electing officials by a broken system.  A call for its o'erhaul?  Before, homezgentry, not after.  We are stuck finding some way to respect the choice of that otherwise silent, if not media-silenced, electorate whose victory lap has been earned (gulped) honestly.  Maybe the only honesty in this whole debacle of democracy. 

Ay so, yo, let's frack the "crooked Hills" comprising an election apparatus that breeds barbaric results. The fix is in.  In order.  But let's also not be victimized by some false sense that we are not complicit in this calamity.  Can we consider signing on, 'forwarding', tweeting, liking...and the e-endless like...the heavy-duty soul-searching to do beyond revamping the rules that (sigh) should play out thru December 19?  This particular election cycle is lost.  Gone.  Dammit, lost.  Middle America has a voice that demands being heard.  One hears you, red-light-districted battlegrounds - throwing up a bit in one's mouth.  No, yours is not the popular choice and she won by an even larger margin than Gore.  Yet n' still?  Da most maddening of FACTS?  Not one who participated in this process is immune from responsibility.  Albeit errors can - and when appropriate - should be corrected, the highest retribution might well be the difficulty of dire reflection.  Prior to the coming revolution.

Shakespeare always says it best and proves no less in Caesar:
                                         “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars (or even electoral joke) 
                                          But in ourselves"


a clever as compassionate critique
on the implausibility of
POSTness 

Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...


© 2016 KM Fikes 
© 2016 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com 

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

H2Omelironic

VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2016 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com
© 2016 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.


a clever as compassionate critique
on the implausibility of
POSTness 

Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...


© 2016 KM Fikes 
© 2016 h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com 
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & h2omeloncholy@blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.