by Johannes Goransson on Feb.14, 2012
Reality TV: the most disgraced, disgraceful art medium in the world.
Reality TV: heralded by no one, watched by everyone. This makes it a total shame. Uh, I mean sham.
Reality TV: takes as its subject “real life,” then subjects real life to BLATANT manipulation.
Reality TV: simultaneously makes of and reveals life as construction. This is offensive to those who view themselves as elite victims at the blind hands of a private fate.
Reality TV: a brave new world where there are no victims, only co-conspirators. Where everyone is witness, and destiny is public, participatory, sympathetic, savage.
She also has a chapbook out on Insert Press called E! Entertainment. My favorite section is a really disturbing appropriation of a video of Anna Nicole Smith and her son. Here’s an excerpt:
“Riley, Age 7: We’re gonna use these first, bunny. You can open your eyes. Close em. Now close em. I wish you could go on the waterslides. But you’re pregnant. If you’re pregnancy, your heart’s bad, if you have a broken bone, or a back condition. I read teh signs! Yep. You can’t. Your other – your baby down here. Why aren’t you pooting, then, or does it hurt? She does. The clown needs some medicine…”
It’s a frightening piece of carnivalesque that refuses easy distinctions between simulacra and “reality”, “reality TV” and heart-break. Very powerful.
To Chin-Chin and Grandmother’s Paintings
I am the Twin Girl who breeds new degenerate species. I happen to be the Siamese Girl who consists of different parts that come loose. The Puzzle Animals escape from me. I am the Twin Girl or the Siamese Girl. It is impossible to magnify me. I am two girls or many. I have been doubled in all eternity, been polished aglow. I have a necklace around my own throat. I am We.
In our visible breastcage hides the Rabbit. We do not want to release her. We do not want to allow her to wander along the horizon, on the skin-sky; on the path to the fence. Not over the mountain nor up-and-down on the golden frame. We do not want to bury her in the blackest blackness, behind the cloth, at the lookout place or anywhere else for that matter…