Author: Justin & Ersun

Picking Away At Colossal Goals

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After reading the ancient texts of Roman Kings and Empires, such as Caesar’s de Bello Gallico and the Res Gestae of Augustus, a common theme seems to have risen. Both of these leaders, pivotal individuals in the construction and flourishing of the Roman Empire, relied heavily on the support of their peoples. They conquered many lands and built a vast civilization over the long years of their lives. While these individuals were at the pinnacle of this movement, they were but orchestrating the continued construction of something far greater than themselves. They were contributing, bit-by-bit, to the construction of a multi-generational project–the civilization of a nation.

These accomplishments are a reflection of the honorable fasces–a symbol of strength through unity among the Roman people. These consisted of an axe encircled in birch rods bound by a leather cord, and were carried in procession of people of power as a representation of their leadership. The bundle of birch rods is a metaphor passed down through the generations to represent the strength and potential of the collective. While one birch rod can be easily snapped, as a single individual can only progress so far in his accomplishments, a bundle of these rods remains unbreakable. Caesar and Augustus would not have achieved much of anything without the strength of their people. In having a collective working toward a goal greater than any one individual, colossal potential can be reached.

The Pyramids of Giza, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the Lighthouse of Alexandria, and all other tremendous accomplishments of ancient peoples were accomplished through an adherence to a lofty goal and respect for a potential greater than one’s personal scope. With the current improvements in technology, accomplishing goals has become a more rapid process. Skyscrapers seem to go up overnight and cities appear within a few years, due to improved infrastructure and fast-paced lifestyles. In this increased speed of construction, people tend to lose cognizance of higher powers. Individuals tend to neglect the power of the collective (unless you consider the poorly infrastructured but highly effective hackivists, Anonymous) in regards to patience. Whatever does not incite immediate pleasure results in avoidance. As opposed to striving after ambitious goals outside the scope of quick completion, people settle for things in which they can see the end. However, true inspiration and accomplishment comes from looking past the scope of ready achievement. Be it in novel writing, empire building, or art, delayed satisfaction can yield truly breathtaking results.

One individual, Scott Weaver, has represented the strength of dedication and progress toward a lofty goal in his 100,000 toothpick kinetic sculpture of San Francisco–Rolling Through The Bay. While the project has already taken him over 35 years to construct, he is not finished. Weaver has represented, in the video below, that he is not finished. While the balls move down the tracks, he comments on how the speed is not perfect, and as one falls off the track, acknowledges that he must fix that. There is still work to be done and that work may never be finished. Just looking at the sculpture inspires a sense of wonder. A simple toothpick is so small, so mundane, but when coordinated with ten of thousands of its kind, it becomes something greater. I believe Weaver understands the idea of delayed gratification and the power of the collective. While he may have been the only individual working on building this monumental sculpture, the continued period of time he has spent in its construction is a different form of unity. It is the adherence to dedication, a trait that is not as largely expressed in modern times as it has been in the ancient world. With the advancements in technology, the application of this one trait–this prolonged perspective–would yield results unfathomable to our current minds.

Just as birch rods bound together cannot be broken, a journey of 100,000 toothpicks results in a legacy that cannot be forgotten. Toothpick-by-toothpick and person-by-person, the colossal can be possible.

Check out the video here!

Societal Weeds of the Seapunk Movement

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For any gardener, the battle against weeds is an unending strife. One aims to cultivate beautiful flowers and shrubs in which they intend to plant. The gardener chooses the plants, their locations, their sizes, and ultimately their fate existing in the garden. In order for these hand-selected plants to prosper, the unwanted flora must be eradicated. The weeds of the garden must be pulled to ensure the fulfillment of the gardener’s vision. So much time and maintenance must go into the care of the cultivated plants, yet one struggles to kill weeds. They sprout up naturally and can thrive, despite any work of the gardener to trim them back. Weeds are always around and, from what I can project, always will be. Adamant and numerous, these unwanted plants can easily overpower cultivated material and invade and conquer an entire garden. While the gardener attempts to trim them back or douse them in chemicals to drown their lives, weeds take on an almost immortal state. Roots can crawl deep and wide, making the process of regrowth increasingly powerful. Mass quantities of weeds become overpowering to the imperialistic gardener. They persist. As illustrated by Thylias Moss in “Tarsenna’s Defiance Garden in which I Love to Spit, ” these weeds form a garden of defiance.

Are societal movements no different? Moss introduces an interesting thought about race and other targeted identity groups in society. Certain types of people are unwanted in specific regions. In some gardens, they are weeds. However, amassing larger enough numbers or being resilient enough, a weed may survive and prosper despite the overseeing power. Many great social changes came about through weed uprising. In a sense, many styles and fashions–art forms of all kinds–stemmed from a simple weed. They started out as an ‘other’–an alternative or deviant clashing of ideas–and rose to amass a following. Sometimes these movements involve a way of life or challenge a predisposed thought. With many weeds sprouting every day, it is difficult to judge which ones will persist–as is the case of any form of life, plant or otherwise. Currently, an alternative style of fashion and music has risen. Seapunk is still in the developing and young weed state, but it may (as anything) rise to a state of longevity. It is currently a sub-genre of electric music and a fashion/design trend with an emphasis on nautical themes. Using its resources as a weed, it began rising through pop culture via social media. As it is consistently being linked and shared across the Internet, it is becoming a niche style trend with a cult following.

Although strange, it is an interesting case of weed-like growth. Like any fashion trend, the roots of its acceptance are unknown and likely impossible to understand. In some regards, it has been said to support environmental awareness and sustainability, with specific interest in marine life. However, despite the cause behind this trend, it is somewhat prospering. It has an active presence on Twitter (#SEAPUNK), as this social media outlet was one of its top means of growth, and a widely extensive collection of photos and sub-pages under Google’s search. The style, as far as fashion goes, involves a heavy use of sea-like colors–blue, turquoise, teal, aquamarine, etc–in contrasting and vibrant mash-ups. Clothing can involve a variety of graphic designs which incorporate dolphins, anchors, waves, and any other oceanic pictures. Some individuals dye their hair varying shades of blue and green. In addition to these themes, there is a huge reliance on mashups from varying forms of pop culture. Numerous references to the 90s are common. It is quite out of the blue, for as far as a style goes, but it is a representative rendition of how society construes fashion.

In addition to the fashion, the aspects of design and music are also worthwhile to explore. While the music doesn’t particularly scream ‘nautical’ to me, as it is not a remixed rendition of SpongeBob SquarePants, I would suggest it is simply another quirk–another stem from this societal weed culture. Arguing the environment awareness cause present for the Seapunk movement, the music could potentially incorporate defense for marine environments through the lyrics. Regardless of the purpose, the pure existence of this movement is what makes it important. With such a presence of social media in the world today, any niche, any idea, can be expanded and shared with others of similar interest. The so-called ‘weeds’ of society–the outliers, the alternative idea people–can form a solid relation and maintain a presence. This is not only the case with fashion and music, but, as illustrated by Moss, a means to an uprising and prospering of targeted identities. Let the weeds grow. Support #seapunk.

Because I’m Purple //Alt-Lit Examined LOL

Justin & Ersun 3 Comments

America is a left brained society. It focuses on routine and structure and analytical/logical thought processes. It involves order and consistency and is most efficient for achieving preset goals. As a result, our education system suffers this disease. We draw at a perpetual sixth grade level because we were no longer encouraged to be expressive once we ‘matured.’ Reading level and math skills take priority because they’re what’s important IRL. That’s kinda stupid. Just like all those stupid kids that write poetry and draw pictures and do theater and make movies. Those kids aren’t smart because they can’t spell hippopottamos (hippopotamus) right or understand derivatives. They get scores in the 20s on the ACT because they can’t fill in the right ovals. Gosh.

I think Alt-Lit is sort of a backlash at left-brained upbringing. Poetry, at its core, doesn’t ‘make sense’ to left-brainers because it isn’t required to have form or structure and may not follow grammatical norms. Like abstract paintings, poetry can be a mystery to its readers. Poetry is flexible and adaptable to the visions of the artist, which is the true nature of art, and since so much of the world has fallen into the realm of the internet, a new breed of poetry arises. It’s loosely called Alt-Lit, with a lot of emphasis being placed on internet interactions. A reputable–if you will–blog about Alt-Lit, Internet Poetry, describes this thing as…

posts “screenshots of poetry being distributed with guerilla tactics on the internet”: poetry as Wikipedia vandalism, tweets, blog comments, etc (read the original doctrine).

Internet Poetry now publishes with a broader idea of what “internet poetry” can be, and is open to the many forms poetry can take online and community it can build.

Among this new genre of poetry, a specific artist has inspired me in a very peculiar fashion to document my life, even at its most mundane. Because I’m Purple is a collection of works that spans random ideas, longings, common daily occurrences, and anything else the creator finds particularly worthy. The inclusion of texts, emails, instant messages, and various other basic but somehow deeper thoughts, are reflected through the art. What captures one’s life in 1st world society more closely than this?

While we munch away at mass-produced synthetic substances we call food, we synthetically interact with our friends and the world via the Internet. Today is a time of disassociation and plastic interaction. Our lives become separated by this invisible digital wall that we can throw our emotions, unguarded, into and cause all sort of repercussions without ever seeing them.

Texting conversations can kill relationships as the blunt unspoken words instantly traded back-and-forth can escalate emotions in false directions of intentions. Love can exist via a phone and this is strangely alienating. Because I’m Purple does a spectacular job of revealing this. By mockingly prodding at the false romanticism created via instant-messaging, a sense of disbanded heartache gets conveyed to the readers of the poem. Image-macros of prairie dogs take on the background for a perverse thought or desire, making that thought both a byproduct and machination of the interaction we have with the Internet. It is almost a strange love-affair where we are mental addicts to an illustrious drug. One piece that is particularly interesting pokes at this strange love-affair by inserting a new medium of transaction.

Like the purple hues taken on by most of these image poems, the melancholy state of these pieces reflect not only a longing for more classic and human connection, but a mocking tone of hopelessness toward society. Rather than become intimate in physicality, they poke at a state of lost romance/aesthetic appeal. Unlike most Alt-Lit, however, Because I’m Purple does a surprisingly good job of making Internet graffiti and uncoordinated image-mash-ups beautiful. They fully embrace the right brain and document our current state as a human race. Trying to understand Alt-Lit and making sense out of its purposeful confusion is against its very nature. It is something that rubs society against the natural grain, sometimes purposefully unappealing. To examine it as ‘art’ is almost ridiculous. As any Alt-Lit fan/creator would say after an attempt of examining Alt-Lit…LOL. Rather than embrace society and try to right its wrongs, Alt-Lit decides to laugh at the burning world.

Alt-Lit is probably the most reputable documentation of modern times.

All images are shared from BecauseImPurple.Tumblr.com

Build to Prosper or Destroy to Conquer

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I have fallen deeply, madly, and irrevocably in love. There have been many before her, coming and going as I progressed through the years. Early on, they taught me the basics, they introduced me to their world. I enjoyed interacting with them, playing with them. As I matured, I began to realize what I cherished in them. Each time I formed a relationship with a new one, I could pinpoint the characteristics I adored and the aspects I despised. I found myself displeased with them, settling on the fact that I would never discover one that met my expectations of perfection. But then I found her. She was German in origin. A true beaut, I might add. She came in a sturdy cardboard box, unlike the cheaply unstable boxes I had grown so used to. She had many pieces, beautifully simplistic and made of solid wood. Her cards were tastefully designed and easy on the eyes. Her board was adaptable and unfixed to a predetermined vision. It changed with every iteration of our intercourse. She was not a board game I would grow bored of.

Throughout my life, I have been a lover of games. My first love was Go Fish. I loved the animal pictures on the cards and the simplistic concept. It was an early introduction to the wonderful world of time-killing and my jumping off point for future endeavors of this sort. Soon after Go Fish, I delved in Sorry! and Candy Land. The colorful board and pieces fascinated me, so many hours of my youth were spent piddling with these games of luck. As I grew older, I learned to play Monopoly. I grew in love with accumulating wealth and properties and building houses and hotels. If only the money was real. As stereotypical for young boys, I was fascinated by the idea of war and combat, and soon became an addict of Battleship, Stratego, Risk and anything with a possibility of conquering imaginary lands on a cardboard surface. Before long, I grew sick of the aspect of luck and became irritated with dice-rolling. Chance could make or break a game. So I eradicated it entirely and became a self-taught student of chess. Years passed in mastering the openings, tactics, and endgame. I had thought I had found a true love. I was in control of my own destiny. Every aspect of the game I could control and master. I was a king.

But no matter how sweet the victory, I still became bogged down with the losses I would endure on the path to conquering. My pieces would be sacrificed in lieu of a greater cause. It was a vicious game, cutting down an opponent until he was at my mercy. Or I at his. Victory was sweet, but the path was riddled in misery. It was not perfect. My longing for an unbreakable love in board games was dying.

And then I found her. In the past few weeks, I have entered a seemingly eternal honeymoon that rekindled my love for board games. Perfection came in the form of Settlers of Catan. She was so unlike all those other games. The American board games I had grown up with promoted domination (like Risk or Battleship), favored chance (like Sorry! and Candy Land),  glorified gluttony (Monopoly), and were disgustingly dramatized (Clue). Settlers of Catan was different. Like most German board games, she minimized luck and emphasized strategy. She did not aim to marginalize or eliminate her players. She allowed for a small group of 3 to 4 people to play, encouraging interaction but minimizing conflict and direct competition. As opposed to the militaristic nature of many American games, she was more economic in nature. She wanted players to build and prosper, not destroy and conquer.

Settlers of Catan more realistically mirrors actuality. It teaches us that there are many roads to success and stomping out opponents will not lead us there. Rather the structure of the game allows one to work with opponents and form mutual arrangements, as there are limited resources necessary to build and no one person can do it alone. The goal of the game is to accumulate 10 Victory Points, which can achieved in a variety of ways. Players can build roads, settlements, cities, and development cards, which are each worth point values. Considering there is no currency in the game, the accumulation of resources cuts out a middleman in the construction process and allows a more direct connection with the adaptable board which provides those resources. In the lack of money, a ‘thief’ piece is present to punish gluttony and the hoarding of resources. This encourages the players to be more clever in their moves and thoughtful of the limited resources. The game encourages trading and agreements, which involves social interaction and strategy. With the variety of ways to win, the game pushes players to be adaptable, changing their the strategies as the game progresses, reminding us that, unlike chess, we can never fully be in control of situations. While dice-rolling is minimal, the small insertion of luck keeps the game interesting and more representative of life, where we must take risks and factor in chance. The game length itself is ideal in length (approximately 90 minutes) as it allows for the game to still remain fresh and interesting without getting tedious. It is relatively easy to learn but supports strategy so more experienced players can earn what they deserve. The theme of the game gives it character but does not control the game itself, making it both original and elegant.

For true lovers of board games, Settlers of Catan is the perfect fit. It is a design of pure masterpiece.

My praise Klaus Teuber.

Yuriy Norshteyn’s Tale of Tales, 1979

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Tale of Tales (Part I)

Like a visual representation of literary nonsense, or Alice in Wonderland tripping on psychedelic mushrooms, Norshteyn’s film appears as purely aesthetic display of randomness. As the reels roll, viewers fall into the transit of a lullaby through time and LP vinyl of a memory skipping through sequences. These 29 minutes are often acclaimed as the ‘greatest animated film of all time,’ despite the numerous modern masterworks created by Pixar and other animators across the globe. This film originates from the Soviet Union and is technically written in Russian, yet, as it bears no visible plot and is stripped of any real dialogue, the potential language barrier is debunked, as it can still be viewed and appreciated by a speaker of any language. Norshteyn’s Tale of Tales offers an insightful glance into the true nature of memory. It is stubbed and fragmented, with splits in logic and sensible thought. It is a series of vignettes, a handful of sounds and images pieced in ways often unknown to us. In this sense, the narration of the story cannot be told chronologically. The events that occur are linked through a shared idea or feeling. Like the little grey wolf bent over a small fire, the film is the painting of patience, waiting out the winter of history.

It can be seen as a visualization of emotions on high during the World War II era on the Eastern Front. Pleasure can be discovered and embraced in mundane tasks of living, as a way of coping with the sadness and overarching gloom of reality that hovered over one’s life during the time of war. Powerful images, such as the male dancers individually evaporating from their women to convey the loss of companionship via war, reach their way into this short animation, taking on the nature of sheer minimalism. The film itself adheres to this simplicity, drawing its strength from the lack of density and higher order. The animations appear to be sketched fluidly and easily, free from a domineering refiner. This stark frugalness gives the film strength, which embodies the essence of the content—drawing strength from the act of living to keep on living. This basic sense capitulates a paramount position in the human condition. It captures a realness that many animations gloss over. It abandons the flashing lights and popping colors of cinema, as they paint over the rough surface of the content, hiding the very flaws and nature of what we are. Modern pictures revolve significantly more around production, which steals attention from the wholesome nature of what truly makes a work—the story. In lieu of a good tale, artfully crafted animation must also follow, as a proper container is necessary to enclose proper insides, but should not enable the container to overpower the content.

Akin to the holiday season, in celebrating Christmas, one may exchange gifts. Beautiful wrappings may surround the gift, but when those are torn off, they are forgotten. The thing that is kept and remembered is the contents of those wrappings. The true beauty of a tale lies in the tale itself. That is the tale of tales, and Norshteyn could not have captured it more beautifully.

Modern Day Doodling

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Boredom strikes in the midst of a most arid lecture. Abandoning this desert of interest, you vicariously dive into the seas of social media, but soon grow ill of surfing Tumblr. Twitter is no longer piquing your creative interest. You wish to build, to construct something clever; something more than a witty one liner and ironic hashtag. You search your backpack and find nothing by a laptop charger and a wireless mouse. There is a graphing calculator without games in the front pocket. Oh god! Oh pi! How could this be?

You find yourself paperless. You carry no notebook—the class notes are posted online. You bear no pen—your fingers type away anything else you have to say. You realize you no longer possess dexterous artistic ability, from all those hours staring at your computer and not setting pencil to sketchpad. But you have an undying desire to doodle. And no, creating an easy scheduling experience on www.Doodle.com does not suffice. Editing photos or scrawling random words into a .txt document is not the same. You need to draw pointless things in the corner of your document. But you don’t have a stylus with interactive digital ink. The ‘Draw Something’ app on your iPhone has simply lost appeal. Appeal…Your fingers, poised above the keyboard, become attractive to your eyes—the mirrors to your soul, the container of your ideas. The metaphorical light bulb goes off. You draw a stick man.

…O

/  |  \

./   \

The idea incites you.

The symbols on your keyboard dissolve all meaning. Letters and numbers become new shapes. Various symbols become tools to be employed. You chuckle at your ingenuity and become absorbed in the possibilities. Your fingers dance across the keyboard and soon your mind is racing to discover new and clever ways to turn the text symbols into pictures. Slashes and bars become your best friends, O’s and underscores become your guilty pleasures.

Soon, the class empties and you remain in your seat. The absence of fellow man is barely recognized. You remain locked to the screen and your newly fabricated flow state continues. Seconds tick by and minutes melt into hours that go extinct. Before long, clever you has created several side-splitting variants of cows. You chuckle. You chortle. You gurgle and titter.

You have created a new art form.

This digital graffiti (Nyan Cat!), or modern doodling, is growing in brilliance around the web. With the evolution of online media, we transform the handful of characters and symbols we are bound to from shackles to tools. A new medium to paint images.