November 2, 2004

For Laurie Anderson and the End of the Moon

The reception was tremendous, with a standing ovation in awestruck appreciation. The audience would have stood and applauded forever, the memory of her lingering apparition on stage, if the time would only have allowed, but obligations of the life outside the theater gradually pulled them, in rapt contemplation, out of the theater.

Genius, my roommate says to me, is in the eye of the professor. It doesn't really matter what you think, but rather that your ideas match the professors'. After all, they're in charge, and they've dedicated their lifes to knowing that shit. They can say the sky is a lovely shade of putrid green, and if that's not your response on the final exam, you fail.

Laurie Anderson, pioneer of performance art, let the scattered candles set the stage. Not resorting to the high technology of her previous shows, she spoke, minimalistically and serene, about science and beauty, fear and technology.

While she was NASA's first Artist in Residence, Anderson learned about a new breed of spacesuits, once that could increase arm strength by 40 times. It comes with built-in medical treatment, such as a splint for when the strength device malfunctions. The suit is now being modified by the US Army.

I'm sorry. I can't do it. Laurie Anderson did in fact rock my world, and I was about to write a long post, relating her work to the election, and my fear of a Republican victory. But then I realized that you guys shouldn't be reading blogs, but you should be going out and voting.

DO IT!!!!
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.