Pete Hindle

Pictures and stuff from a guy who likes coffee.

Tag: quote

Fuck Committees

Corporations have become the sole arbiters of cultural ideas and taste in America. Our culture is corporate culture. Culture used to be the opposite of commerce, not a fast track to ‘content’- derived riches. Not so long ago captains of industry (no angels in the way they acquired wealth) thought that part of their responsibility was to use their millions to support culture. Carnegie built libraries, Rockefeller built art museums, Ford created his global foundation. What do we now get from our billionaires? Gates? Or Eisner? Or Redstone? Sales pitches. Junk mail. Meanwhile, creative people have their work reduced to ‘content’ or ‘intellectual property’. Magazines and films become ‘delivery systems’ for product messages.But to be fair, the above is only 99 percent true.

From Tibor Kalman’s manifesto, “Fuck Committees“.

In this world, shipmates, sin that pays its way can travel freely, and without a passport; whereas Virtue, if a pauper, is stopped at all frontiers.

from “Moby Dick”, by Herman Melville, 1851

Elephants and Drawing from Life

This is one of my favourite images; back in 2004 I wrote a dissertation about Japanese art, and this image of an elephant (by, I think, Tawaraya Sotatsu, in the Rimpa style) is something I came across during my research. It was probably drawn from life, which might be why the thing looks so pissed off; elephants are not supposed to live in Japan.

The great Japanese artist Hokusai had this to say about the practice of drawing from life:

From around the age of six, I had the habit of sketching from life. I became an artist, and from fifty on began producing works that won some reputation, but nothing I did before the age of seventy was worthy of attention. At seventy-three, I began to grasp the structures of birds and beasts, insects and fish, and of the way plants grow. If I go on trying, I will surely understand them still better by the time I am eighty-six, so that by ninety I will have penetrated to their essential nature. At one hundred, I may well have a positively divine understanding of them, while at one hundred and thirty, forty, or more I will have reached the stage where every dot and every stroke I paint will be alive. May Heaven, that grants long life, give me the chance to prove that this is no lie.

“If you haven’t wasted huge chunks of your life on art, booze, and soft drugs, then you’ve wasted huge chunks of your life and we don’t want you around here.”

“Maybe some of you know politicians. Maybe you hang out with them, went to school with them, exchange Christmas cards with them. I’m guessing not, though. Politicians tend not to hang out with people like you, almost by definition. Typically, someone interested enough in the arts to be reading the Believer has spent a lot of time doing things that disqualify you not only from a career in politics,  but from even knowing people who have a career in politics. While you were smoking weed, sleeping around, listening to Pavement, reading novels, watching old movies, and generally pissing away every educational opportunity ever given to you, they were knocking on doors, joining societies, reading the Economist, and being very, very careful about avoiding people and situations that might embarrass them later. They are the people who were knocking on your door five minutes after you arrived at college, asking for your vote in the forthcoming student-representative election; you thought they were creeps, and laughed at them behind their backs. Meanwhile, they thought you were unserious and unfocused, and patronized you irritatingly if you ever had cause to be in the same room. I hope that, however old you are, you have already done enough to kill any serious political ambition. If you haven’t wasted huge chunks of your life on art, booze, and soft drugs, then you’ve wasted huge chunks of your life and we don’t want you around here. Go away.”

Nick Horby, the Believer, March/April 2011

“If you’re fifteen or so, today, I suspect that you inhabit a sort of endless digital Now, a state of atemporality enabled by our increasingly efficient communal prosthetic memory. I also suspect that you don’t know it, because, as anthropologists tell us, one cannot know one’s own culture.”

William Gibson, speaking in 2010

The multitude of books is a great evil. There is no measure or limit to this fever of writing; everyone must be an author; some out of vanity to acquire celebrity; others for the sake of lucre and gain.

Martin Luther (1483 – 1546)

Health Update 2

‘You have to get well. Being ill is like being attacked, you see? Your body is like a great fortress that has been besieged by invaders. You’ve repelled them, you’ve seen them off, but you have to be good, and marshal your forces and rebuild the walls, refurbish your catapults, clean your cannons, restock your armouries. Do you see?’

Iain M. Banks, Inversions

As I mentioned earlier, I’ve been unwell recently.

It turns out I was a lot sicker than I thought. This December has seen me go back into hospital, where I almost died from a massive hemorrhage. From there, I was diagnosed with a very rare illness (in the vasculitis family) and told that I’d probably been suffering from this illness for at least six months.

The only near-death experiences I’ve had prior to this have been the result of my own stupidity, but this time wasn’t my fault. There was nothing I could have done, nor was there anything that the medics who’d seen me earlier in the year could have done. Vasculitis is staggeringly rare; so rare that they don’t even know what causes it, and I was well out of the age range for people who usually suffer from my specific strain of vasculitis.

At the time, I didn’t notice nearly dying. I was busy, or – more accurately – distracted. In fact, I only realised how close to death I’d been after a few days, when the nurses who’d looked after me during my hemorrhage came back on duty and were fantastically happy to see me. Why?

Because they thought I was going to die, and I didn’t.

Make no mistake, this was a catastrophic breakdown of my health, and although I’m trying not to be dramatic about these events it’s hard to convey how much of a near thing it really was. Would it help to tell you that I couldn’t eat for six days after the hemorrhage, and was attached to several cannula’s and a catheter? Or am I being too revealing?

I don’t think what’s happened to me was a bad thing; in fact, I’m grateful for the experience. I’m still ill, and I’m told my recovery will take months, but given the alternative I’m happy with how things are going now. I’ve had a fantastic Christmas with my family, and my friends have been amazingly supportive. In fact, I should say that there’s nothing more life-affirming than not dying.

Adam Curtis on the Media:

“…what I ache for is a world where people really dream of incredible things, and above people who are in charge of the media, people who paid a lot of money, actually use their imagination and intelligence to take me places and tell me things I don’t know.”
Adam Curtis, 2007

Ballard Quote:

I would sum up my fear about the future in one word: boring. And that’s my one fear: that everything has happened; nothing exciting or new or interesting is ever going to happen again… the future is just going to be a vast, conforming suburb of the soul.