The Girl and the Robot

Whoa. So much to say about this song.

First of all, I love it. God bless the Swedes on this collab.

Most pop songs either remain in a major key throughout the entire song or at least start out in minor chords and rewards you with a major chord release via chorus. Thus fulfills the formula of pop bliss.

"The Girl and the Robot" may be disguised as your standard electro-pop dance anthem but is actually miles apart from anything I've heard. It never strays from the minor key. You wait and you wait. But there is no chorus. There is no release.

And that's what makes it perfect. Though the melody abstains from relieving its own stress at any point during the song, it meshes beautifully with the emotionally bludgeoned state of the narrator. She's admittedly hit rock bottom as she pleads for her lover to call and waits relentlessly for him to come home. But just as our reward never arrives in the form of melody, he doesn't either.

It reminds me of Alexander Solzhenitsyn's short novel, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, which takes place during just a single day in a Soviet labor camp during the Stalinist regime. This book has no chapters. There are no breaks in pace as we sink deeper and deeper into the daily routine of Ivan Denisovich. He wakes up every biting, cold morning with dejection in his heart, and the only brief period of time is he able to shake himself from this cruel reality is when he shuts his eyes and goes to bed. End scene.

Denisovich's doom is as constant (though obviously not equatable in nature--well, maybe) as Robyn's as she drives the melody through a string of accusive verses but never achieves gratification.

Maybe that's why I can listen to this song over and over and over and over again. I'm so fascinated by the melody that I keep waiting for the chorus to come. But of course it doesn't. So I play it again because subconsciously I am still expecting.

But when has something good ever come out of expectations?

And since when did this post about a great song turn into yet another existential self-jerk?

Life.

Haterade. It tastes so gud.

i can't tell you how much i love it when i hear a good dj ripping on the bullshit pretty boy famewhore ones. and i fucking LOVE that if you start to type in "why do people hate tiesto" or "why do people hate david guetta" on google, you don't even have to complete the question. millions have asked before you.

try the same question with boys noize, justice, or mstrkrft--no results.

so put your hands in the air if you're just another "elitist prick" who loves to hate on a "good artist because he gets very popular".

-.-

or, you can put your hands in the air if you just plain and simple hate repetitive, banal trance music, the commodification of yet another punk identity, and of course, djs who think they're heirs of the holy grail.

"Bitches on my dick cuz I look like edward james olmos"

what an asshole <3

Prelude

It's like that beautiful person you're mad about, and then you search for their heart and soul and it's not there... oops. That's kind of what that pretty image is, without a concept that moves you, and holds you there. That's the unexplainable. That is what you want more of.

A bee sees a flower from a distance. Closer in it finds the reward, that pollen, that inner flower. That's it. That is what your photos must do to be remembered: experience beyond the visual.

I have seen a photography at a glance and passed over it; often it is a dull design. Or, stopped for a moment, a nice design, but no emotional response, no idea. I continue on, but again, no memory. And it is that image that stops me and delivers a message, logical or not, makes me think, makes me feel. Now I have felt this image. I will not forget it. There is elevator music, and there is that part of a melody, a sound with or without words and our hearts rise or fall, we feel something. We do not run to the CD store and ask for elevator music. We want that artist, their music, and we want more of it. Get the picture? We want more of what we feel about music.

This booklet does not tell you what to photograph or even how to photograph. It simply asks you to consider a few motivational options. One of the greatest thrills I have ever had was when a stranger said to me: "Oh yeah, you're the guy that shot the picture of the cop and the clown aren't you? I love that shot". I had shot it 25 years ago. By putting your feelings about the subject in the photo you are signing it. Your "emotional opinion" is your power.

Just when I think photographers have done it all in every way, someone, a student or a friend says: "Take a look at this, what do you think?" Again and again I am moved and amazed, as if a new planet or species had just been discovered.

You Have a Choice. You can be a student or a photographer... in your mind and your actions. You can be a student and get by and get grades and a piece of paper or you can be a photographer and immerse yourself in your art and make images that will get you higher grades anyway without the stress. The degree is then a reward for your integrity and creativity.

This photography, this art can be a never ending search into the unknown, past your known ego, into your very spirit. The next few pages will give you a few things to take with you on this incredible journey. Enjoy this trip.

James B. Wood

Executive Director of Photography

Academy of Art University

Eden Gray

Nine of Swords

Eden Gray tarot cards are blowing my mind. I'd summarize these cards as chromatic visuals embedded in muted terror. What an oxymoron. I love that. It's the most piercing and triggering art series I've come across in a long time, and one day I want to make a film inspired completely by these images.

The Nine of Swords is my favorite. The ones below are pretty fucked up too.

Ten of Swords

Eight of Swords

Six of Swords

Five of Cups

I love that one because it reminds me of The Seventh Seal.

sup, death!

kbai.

Michael, you rule.

Yet another ridiculous convo in Oakland pt. 2

Angel: If you contribute 60 dollars they mount a gold brick with your name on it somewhere in the warehouse!!

me: OOOOO!!!

Angel: Oh and if you pay 30 dollars you get a shirt with Anthony's art on it!!

me: eh