• this is
    home
  • what is
    deepsicks
  • who is
    meg holle
  • explore the
    archive
  • haunt the
    graveyard
  • sometimes i
    make art
  • what else
    is there
Archives for posts with tag: politics
« Older Entries

our trolls are no face

July 16, 11 //
1
Narratives, Photography
america, minneapolis, politics, street art

I wonder if they know the other side of the tunnel will only show the same sunset storm sky, but I suppose this assumes they’ll make it. Takes it for granted they saw it once already and decided it wasn’t enough or what they thought telling or important to confront, to mend. Didn’t hit the right notes, speak the right language. Convince of a future of further dismantling. Facts are so goddamn boring. Lies tell our hearts what is true.

If one more time I hear “kick the can down the road,” I will exPLOrobably say nothing.

Poverty, greed, disgrace and disgust all need better emotional branding.

1
 comments
 

scared funny

May 25, 10 //
8
Narratives
now + zen, politics, skating

I skate goofy foot and wear a helmet. These things are not related, beyond both making me a weirdo, apparently. I’m funny. My friends tease me. Don’t that feel wrong? the wind not in your hair?

I don’t have health insurance—haven’t for almost a year, since I left Canada. I haven’t been entirely unemployed, but this is how America Works. I’ve been on and off contracting for a college. They don’t have the money to actually hire me, and certainly not to pay me benefits. It’s a religious school. Maybe they’ve been praying for me instead.

It’s funny, because it really is scary, and because I sound bitter, and I am, but I’m being facetious, too. It didn’t take long for me to remember that I shouldn’t expect, much less think I deserve, that my basic health and safety needs should be met when I’m lucky enough to be proud.

So, I wear a helmet and ignore the fact that if luck runs out in a crash bam accident bad enough where a helmet saves my life, my brain will be intact but my body’s gonna wish it were dead.

I don’t think about this dodging pothole traffic on my bike or carving arcs through winding suburban parks on my longboard, though. I just go. I feel fantastic. And when I take a hill too fast unable to slow, panic know a sharp turn is just around the corner FAIL! need to bail right now but my legs can’t run fast enough to match my velocity and I stumble fall fly forward head over heels into the grass leaves branches trees, every time my head smacks hard I think AWESOME! I’m wearing a helmet RAD! I am so rad, rolling into a heap at the side of the path, my comrades out of sight further down the trail.

You fall when you lose faith—question confidence, your own inner balance, stop praying to yourself for just a second, or worse, become aware of the prayer and wonder how in hell it’s actually working. Grass stained, stinging, blood poking out, I rise tall and feel divine.

As we drive back to the city, Natalie in her convertible taunts Gabe in his gonzo Riveria, tempting him to race the twisted guts of torn-up 35W. In the revving Riv with Gabe I put my helmet back on, and Gabe thinks it’s funny so drives faster to show Natalie and Andrew in the other car how funny I am. They go faster. We go faster. I take off my helmet so it isn’t funny anymore but quickly put it back on.

It is too scary to not be funny. We are all going to die.

We don’t.

Later Gabe says I fell off my board to prove I need a helmet. I think I fell because I needed to fall, to know I’d be okay. The first real ride of the summer, the first lost control out of the way. A cyclist who witnessed it grunted as he passed me, “You okay?” actively pedaling by, and I know it is true.

Didn’t need that skin anyway. That illusion of control. The belief I can get away with anything. The fear that I won’t.

8
 comments
 

keeping my nose clean

November 22, 08 //
2
Narratives
america, angst, journeys, joy, politics

Though several days have passed since the election of the Next President of the United States, I haven’t updated since, and so: My guy won! Woohoo!

While most of the sappy weepy yet elegant historically significant emotions have stabilized, the high and hopefulness continue—but.yet.and so does my hesitancy to throw myself into full-blown optimism. S’bleak out there, man. With the collapsing economy and our ill standing among other nations, an environment oozing wounds and wars still waging, I temper my expectations, and not only because of the rough and ragged state we’re in. I have forgotten what it’s like to have a leader I believe in.

I feel like I’m escaping an abusive relationship. I don’t know how to trust, how to listen without assuming I’m being lied to, forces dark and heavy tied to every move this cretin government makes. The Bush Administration has made me paranoid, cynical and inherently suspicious, always trying to suss the secret agenda, the manacles behind the curtain, whichever way the wind blows the windfalls today, smoke up our assets while other wallets get fat.

Now out with the old and in with the new, or so it goes, or does it. I am an Obama supporter 100 percent, but still cautious in my homage and growing concerned about the swelling cult of personality, the seas of people seizing this black-and-white notion of history (ha! I’m so on my game) as though politics, society and culture were ever that simple. Black president = all better. Democrat = all better. All bitter = all better. Next stop, bliss.

I don’t fear Obama will turn into a not-so-secret Muslim terrorist Antichrist socialist. I fear he will become just a man. Imperfect, yes, fine, welcome. But susceptible to greed and corruption. Powerless against inflation and inflated expectations. Susceptible to sniper scopes, dashing hopes and dreams of unity.

Sigh. Oh well. I can’t help but look forward, take a helping of belief: things will improve. Not all at once, and not everything. But things will get better.

As an aside, this entire election season and especially toward the end, the internet was double-fisting awesomeness. Despite living in Canada I was able to follow online with relative precision the issues that interested me, from national contests to local referendums. Naturally I was into the Minnesota competitions (with the senate race still going on, heh), but it was cool to see more obscure races brought to the fore as never before. From campaign commercials and news broadcasts I don’t get in BC to some of the most wicked hilarious and creative photochopped and captioned reimagining of events, I felt… there. Included. Cheering and groaning along with everyone else. Thanks, Al Gore!

On a related note, my video “An American Abroad” was favorited by PBS’s Video Your Vote project and made it to the front page of YouTube for a couple of days, garnering me some short-lived goofball fame. It went from 350 views to 4500 overnight and leapt by the thousands from there. I’m currently grasping near 100,000.

While certainly an ego-trip in a general sort of way, it also feels plain good—and profoundly. I created the video chiefly to be silly and to celebrate voting, but also to channel my election alienation. As connected the internet made me feel, I was simultaneously isolated from the election experience. Cheesy but true: I wanted to express myself, sharing both my moping and uncontrollable excitement with my family and friends. To have this pool explode into a worldwide audience of tens of thousands of viewers has been surreal and affirming—for me as a person, an American, a Minnesotan, an expatriate new patriot and an artist crazy dancer.

My vote counted 96,609 times. Right now in Minnesota, they’re counting it again, both sides making a ridiculous mess of it, yes, but nonetheless… I couldn’t be more pleased.

Hooray for me! Hooray for Obama! Yay, America! Yay!

2
 comments
 

more fun than Eddie Murphy in French

October 13, 08 //
5
Shouts
dancing, fake, hilarity, joy, politics, victoria

It’s been tough this election season, being in Canada where the action ain’t (and they’ve their own campaigns to mind). Mostly, I cry. Oh glorious day, when my absentee ballot arrived. In 2006 I took a photo to commemorate my Secrecy Envelope. This year, I’ve pulled out all the stops to document my patriotic anguish and glee. Enjoy.

(Happy Thanksgiving, Canadians!)

5
 comments
 
« Older Entries
  • brave empire

    • Death Reference Desk
    • Meg Holle, Librarian
    • The Author Is Dead
    • You Are Not Dead
  • buy product

  • browse tags

    adventures america angst arkytechture art biking books dancing deepsicks fake family fargo found text garbage halloween hilarity holledays home hotelandia industrial bones internets journeys joy libraries minneapolis music now + zen politics rants sad face satan school shows skating st. paul street art swoons the vault U of M vancouver victoria whoa writing you are not dead zombies
Wu Wei by Jeff Ngan, modified by Meg Holle.
Copyright 2002 - 2012 by Meg Holle.
to the top