Mike of Modernity (or Post?)

The chaotic, disturbing, contradictory and sometimes frustrating "reality" that is uncovered in post-modern theoretical studies reaches a fever pitch with the writings of Bell Hooks. Brutal and direct she tears apart the commodification of what the white power structure calls "exotic" or "primitive" cultures: the Other. Hooks views this mass marketing of the other as simply another form of racism perpetrated by white America. The difference, she states, is that instead of enslaving by force, the white American marketing machine instead swallows these cultures creations, and themselves, whole. Her fascinating story of the young men speaking about their desire for sexual conquest of as many ethnic women as possible raised hairs on the back of my neck. But then I took pause and realized that at least they weren't talking about beting up as many ethnic groups as they could. Can one rationalize one being better than the other? That is certainly hard, as the desire to screw somebody doenst necessarily mean you respect or understand them,; least of all their culture. So where does the cycle stop? For Hooks it is when all people recognize and understand that their is racism, even unconscious racism happening all around us, and the only way to eradicate it is to acknowledge it. To me, this seems to be a throwaway answer. Where does the blame for one's ancestors past transgressions stop? How could I possibly understand how another culture can live unless I am a part of it? Not living in it - born into it. You can't. To truly understand is impossible. But what is so hard about letting others be. Maybe even learn to live in concert and enjoy the fruits of their history to help enrich our own future. Are we so scared of the "Other" that we must destroy all those we view as owning that moniker? Soon the only other left, will be us.

Mike of of Modernity (or post?)

The whirlwind tour which enumerated the postmodern architectural highlights of Downtown Orlando for this class has left an indelible mark. Every building and outbuilding, every facade and courtyard seem to speak now, in a hitherto unheard tongue. Though every readers translation of the text in buildings will vary, certain signals can be heard loud and clear; whether or not that was the intention of their creators. A building has been slowly growing in Altamonte Springs, one can in fact see it from our beloved I-4. Merely a skeleton not just a year ago, this building was recently given the beginnings of a mirrored facade, a construct that we know from our friend Mr. Jencks is often used to quote other buildings around it, adding multi-valence to its structure. I have attempted to find out who exactly it is that owns this building, but I do know it belongs to a rather wealthy and influential Christian Ministry group. The construction on this building has been over three years in the making, possibly more. For economic reasons, the buildings progress has been halted, with piecemeal construction ensuing as money permits. While nearly perfectly horizontal in all other aspects of its shape, the buildings glass facade is rounded at the top on one side. It, in fact, looks like a not so subtle penis-in-metamorphosis. Something akin to the original cover of "The Little Mermaid" (The Castle was a giant phallic symbol - and not subtle either). This sort of phallocentric symbolism can be seen everywhere, so it is not this element that is truly intriguing about. It is the fact that it is the tallest building for miles, and has remained unfinished for so long. One can see inside the building where the unfinished mirroring ends. A gigantic absent center. Not only is there nothing in the building, but it has no covering to define what it's center might be. The costly reflective glass coverings, do not quote anything, because there is nothing left to reflect. It might have been an impressive piece of architecture one day, a source of pride for it's designer, and a coup for its investors. At least this is what the building says to me. That it shall always remain a half-baked attempt at egotism, that just couldn't get it up.