Monday, February 19, 2007
If I can wait my whole life I can wait two months
So the meathook series is done, and rather anti climatic. A rather simple story of a young man attending class and breaking up with his sort of girlfriend. I didn't have a set plan for the story and ended it when I felt like it rather than going to a certain narrative point. I wanted to establish a ambigious tension between the narrator and Chelsea which I felt was successful. Part of my desirre to create an confusion between the two characters was to mirror my own feelings about how relationships, especially romantic relationships don't make much sense to me. Some people are rather successful with their love lives, while others who are more interesting, dynamic, or just better people are complete losers. I imagine dating to be more like the drifting and crashing of iceburgs than anything else.
One of the points of doing the series was to be regularly writing, even if only just a page or so. My ability to write non-fiction is limited, or perhaps my ability to speak using a fictional medium is greater.
The point of each installment was usually less about the story than about a particular image. For example my fascination for the gloved picture in Andre Breton's Nadja. Well its hard to describe it as a fascination, that seems like it involves some extended period. No its more of a process of becoming lost in an item, or an action that has no real value to oneself. The gloves mean nothing to me, the picture means little, but something is catching about it for a little while.
This thought was a little more established in my mind as when I was at work a week or two ago. When of the food runners, a rather lazy worker, was drinking from a glass of water. As the water moved into her mouth I was drawn by the act, the transferrence of the water from cup to mouth. Something indescribable about this ordinary act caught me, drew me in. Its not the act itself, there is still nothing special about the food runner drinking water, but there was something in that moment that made things surreal.
In one of the first posts I talked about the narrator drawing porn comics next to marxist quotes. I added that part as it was both funny and as a way of showing that the narrator engaged in "juvenile" male behaviour. Those pictures are great though.
My main problem with the writing by the way is that I'm pretty sure I fucked up the present and past tense a bunch, mixing the two. Some proofreading would probably take care of that.
At some point soon, within the week I'll start a new series. It seems like a good set up.
On a completely other note I fought my third smoker on saturday in san francisco. It was a crushing defeat for my opponent as I seem to have found my style of fighting. It mainly involves kicking until I'm in range to knee, then I clinch up and knee the shit out of the opponent until they are done. My opponent felt like a rag doll on me towards the end of the second round. I will be fighting again on march 3rd. \
The Ram Muay or Wai Khru
One of my problems right now is dealing with the issue of wether or not to do the ram muay. The ram muay is a ceremonial dance that is done by the fighters before the beginning fo the fight to pay respects to their teachers. Part of me wants to do it, part of me worries that I'm just some white kid appropriating thai culture. The real question is how much of a muay thai fighter am I? What does that mean to me? How do others view a foreigner thai fighter? Maybe I'll be the next Raymond Dekker, probably not....