Category Archives: se a vida é

Eva Brown

Upcoming shows to go see are:
1. Tomorrow The Night Marchers play the waterfront
2. The day after, Fata ‘El Moustache’ Morgana (with basically all Mees’ men as members) & Eva Braun play the OT301 (cd release party for both bands)

Suus and me were asked to do the Eva Braun artwork and it turned out the thing you can see right above this here picture of Eva Braun herself. Pretty nifty huh? We took Eva Braun’s picture and turned her into someone quite new (and quite old). Just as the band has. Also please observe the typeface Suus designed! If that ain’t fresh, I don’t know what is. Too bad the band didn’t go for it. I won’t go into ‘why’, but let’s leave it at ‘every client has the right to refuse a design and that’s that.’ Hope I make it to their gig though, as musicians they kick lots of ass!

The Self

The other day I saw Ghost In The Shell (Mamoru Oshi, 1995, originally titled ‘Kôkaku kidôtai’) again. I guess the last (and first) time I saw it was 1998 or so and I remembered it had made a big impact then when I was in my early twenties. I couldn’t have guessed it would be as breathtaking then as it still is now. It’s a fantastic film on the dangers –or consequences if you prefer– of humanity creating intelligent computers. Wearable technologies, robotic limbs, the internet and the fact that we grew up on films about this subject (2001 A Space Odyssey, Blade Runner) provided us with a mindset able to further explore the meaning of the soul of men compared to the soul of objects.

I don’t know why I’m always fascinated and deeply moved by films on this subject. ‘A.I.’, ‘electroma’ and ‘The Matrix I-III’ are obviously films that made me cry like a baby. It must have something to do with a certain numbness robots display that I can easily relate to. Humans seem to almost take pride in showing their every emotion when shit hits the fan. Their will to display their involvement with other people’s misfortune is mostly enormous and encouragable. If it comes to stuff like that, I tend to act a little droidy myself. For instance I never take my problems elsewhere but I do advise others on theirs in a soulless, reasonable manner and on a clockwork basis. In a way I have become a replicant myself. Society prefers calling it ‘nihilist’, but doesn’t that mean ‘robotic’ in itself. Also, I don’t consider myself soulless, so even in that respect I’m just like all the soulless droids in all the films I just brought up. Maybe men truly is soulless and their longing for a certain soulfullness drives them to do radical things, or make radical choices and their longing or hoping to posess a soul actually provides them with one just as their longing for a God who’s not just their inspiration but also their actual creator provides them with one of those.

But I do believe in love to be the driving force behind- and the meaning of life, so in that repect I was created by –at least the act of– love and now am inspired by it, hense my God IS love. It’s just not the kind of love that makes me feel sorry for sadness, it’s more of a love that embraces the idea of a world in which happiness is something to be celebrated, like ‘weekends’… and sadness is just the mud we all wade through uninspired, simply because we must. Because we’re programmed to do so.

If you haven’t seen it yet, go out and order it on DVD: the animation’s stunning, the score (by Kenji Kawai) is stunning and the characters are cool ’n sexy like Bogart and Bacall, but the story (of a hacker called ‘the puppet master’ being tracked down by the cyborg cop who’s actually the puppet master’s digital soul mate) is simply awesome.

another one from de old box

old box

Some friends at one point just disappear out of sight. And so it happened with Reinier van Velzen (left) and Richard van de Ven (right), but not before I took this awesome picture of them in Tutti Frutti Skate Hall, the Hague where they were examining a piece they just made. The year is 1993, two years after punk had broken. Memories pop up when cleaning out your studio entirely. Big up to both you guys, wherever you are.

Homeward Bound

Homeward Bound

I’m not one to roam the earth’s corners looking for adventure and whatever comes my way, like for instance Maarten who some of you might know as the David Gilmour Girls live drummer, and others as one of the hosts of the spectacular MUG parties in the Rotterdam Vagabond. Anyway, thank god he got sick of roaming around Central and South America and decided to return to the mothership or otherwise we would have had to wait way too long for another classic MUG party. Next saturday there’s one starring (hopefully) the legendary reunion of Maarten and Wesley AND My Little Soundsystem, Marco and Orpheo and myself, the Homey Universalis, also known as just Rufus.

Attentive visitors might have noticed I now have a Last.fm account. It’s here.

I’m your Venus…

Venus 

Of course I had heard of the Venus of Willendorf some years ago already thru the earlier mentioned Jan van Heemst and the likes, but it wasn’t until I had bought the BBC series How Art Made The World that I was actually fully alive to the fact that at one point in time (approx 25.000 years ago) some crazy ass human being had figured ‘why not make an image of something?’. This image became the characteristic fat lady that must have seemed yummie to the cavemen of her time.

In the now it seems the bodies of human beings and the way they are portrayed can sell practically everything. Sex naturally sells all, but American Apparel seems to have captured just the eighties-Bret Easton Ellis-manically depressed-coked up-disappear here-type sexual flow one needs to be selling apparel nowadays. Just to span the entire iconographic history of how humanity thus looks at female sexuality I made ‘Venus’ the new model for Terry Richardson’s or Merlin Bronques’ (mentioned earlier on this site) photographs.

Check out the results on the backsides of the upcoming some issues of local queer punk zine Her Dick, where my Austrian Appearance® (Willendorf, the site our fat bottomed Venus was first found in 1908 is situated in Austria) seems to have found a home for now.

now I do remember the last time I cried

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Last week Suus and me went on one of those ‘it’s all getting much too much now, so let’s get out of town for a couple of days’ type holidays to the beautiful town of Ghent, Belgium. Somehow everything was themed ‘the old and forgotten’.

We went to a bar called Den Turk that has been there since the year 1228(!), I bought me a new sports jacket, which had not happened since childhood, we walked around in a town breathing the middle ages, saw Jan van Eyck’s ‘Het Lam Gods’ ['the adoration of the mystic lamb'] and the cathedral (both quite stunning), saw Sebadoh play live in their original line-up in the Trade Centre building (in which according to Jason Loewenstein Mozart had performed in his day), needless to mention it was a great gig of three indierock dinosaurs proving that men who know not exactly how to play their instruments in unison still are able to rock out with an energy seldomly displayed. And last but not least an encounter with an animal we probably won’t see live in our lifetime (not counting captivated zoo animals) anymore. I speak of the mighty polar bear.

What happened was in Belgium the BBC documentary ‘Planet Earth’ still played in cinemas. Belgians apparantly have more feeling with mother earth than us. (Either that, or Dutch people enjoy the DVD experience better.) Anyhow, the documentary made clear that polar bears are practically extinct, given the fact that they can no longer walk the frail ice to get them near seals, which make up most of their diet. In other words: we messed up. At the end of the film we see a polar bear, unable to reach seal territory, weakened from exhaustion try out new dinner possibilities and attack a group of walrus. Of course our fluffy friend is no match for these enormous creatures and the bear finally hits the ground awaiting its inevitable death.

Of course I already knew this, otherwise Suus and me wouldn’t have picked the polar bear as our symbol of collaboration on, amongst other things, The New Earth Group artwork. We came up with it then since we themed the looks for that record ‘the New Earth is the Now’, the old earth is that of the free roaming polar bear. But then, in that Ghent cinema something hit me. The film eventually points out that you can do something about this horrific truth, if you like to know how, visit the love earth website. Now, since we went to see the matinee, there were four kids sitting in the row in front of us and about five in the one behind us. I couldn’t help but thinking ‘yeah sure, like visiting websites could bring back the ice. These animals are dead and you know it, Patrick Stewart!’. Normally I’m all for progress no matter if it seems ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ or ‘cold’ or ‘heartless’ or just ‘inconvenient’. Normally I like to think inevitabillity is something you want not waste your breath on. But now, surrounded by kids, I felt sick and beaten. Sick, because I couldn’t stand these children being lied to, and beaten because I know they simply had to be lied to, for reality simply would have been too harsh for them. Meanwhile, try and keep in mind this film is aiming at an ALL ages audience, not just kids. This says one or two things about grown ups as well if you ask me. But then again maybe I was merely lying to myself and had convinced myself of the worst possible scenario to be ‘the only truth’ simply to protect myself in a weird way. Protect myself from ‘hoping otherwise’, which could possibly have a disappointing effect in the end. And when I say possibly, I actually mean ‘almost without any doubt’.

No wonder we, the HuMobisten, once were in love with ‘doubt’ a lot. I sure hope my getting older doesn’t mean my cleaning up in the doubt department. ‘Cause if that’s so, there lies a pretty sinister future ahead.

meervoudig ambigu

Ooit studeerde ik (een indigoblauwe maandag) Nederlandse Taal- en Letterkunde aan de Universiteit van Utrecht. Dat was lachen. Bij het vak taalkundig ontleden leerde ik toevallig dat de zinnen ‘ongelovigen zijn honden’ en ‘honden zijn ongelovigen’ (wat ik natuurlijk niet zeker weet, maar wat ik wel een beetje sterk vermoed) feitelijk dezelfde zijn. En nu jullie weer!

I’m not black like Barry White, no I am white like Frank Black is

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Different races… aren’t they just the funniest thing God could have ever invented for us to break our minds on. Well to me they are. There are those who claim to not even see the difference between them as to point out how much they’re involved in being ‘just human’, but you should never believe these people. They are merely trying to place themselves in a position that doesn’t even exist. There are also those who claim people who belong to a certain race have certain characters. That doesn’t seem right either. Although I must admit I laughed oud really loud at Mitch Hedberg’s joke “OFF-WHITE! It’s a NEW race, WE WILL PREVAIL!” because to me that joke meant ‘I feel awkward belonging to white people, because they usually are really white.’ (I am about to make a shirt that says just that as a sort of tribute to the late comedian, keep your eyes open for that one!) So, differences between the races… actually are. They exist.

White people for instance will take any talk on white people without getting upset. That’s our main quality. Other races seem to not handle that so well. This might have to do with recent history more than actual genetics, but still. I, like Paul Gauguin, usually dig south-east asian girls most of all. Black an white chicks I do like are herefore part of a special breed called ‘girls up there with the south-east asians’. The same is true about music. Negroes, blacks, black people, they who come from Africa, the earth people, the originators, they who where here first, or whatever the fuck one should call black people without ’saying it wrong’ make some of the best music ever made. Or, MOST OF IT to be specific. But when Jamie Lidell or Charlie Haden are performing everyone’s like ‘white, you say?’. We all got some qualities. But the funniest thing of course is that we continuously wonder: is this a fact or just a generalisation? These wonderings often get me in ‘Larry David-style’ situations. I think of something, a black guy asks me ‘what is it?’, I answer and they walk away nodding their heads like I’m some sort of racist. Example: I don’t know how you guys live your lives, but my white friends and me like calling each other ‘nigger’ every once in a while. Not in a racist sense tho, we’re more like ‘wassup, nigga!?’ Let’s not forget that since white people have been plundering the world and tried to screw all other races, there’s no N-word for white people with the same importance, there’s no proud or even funny way to say ‘waddup redneck!?’ to a friend, like black guys call each other nigga. (although ‘waddup kaaskop’ could be quite funny I guess.) Us calling each other ‘nigger’ simply says something about ‘being the underdog’, or us joking around with that same notion. It ain’t no racial thing, but it does COME FROM a racial thing. Another example; a pretty upset girl once told me ‘You’re even worse than a negroe’ and I took it as a compliment. Pretty strange thing to say when you think about it, right? Not to me, because I understood what she meant, merely because I underline differences… usually pretty ludicrous differences, but still… It’s funny ’cause it’s true.

So why is it some people all want to be the same and part of a big, happy family? I mean, eventually we’re all human, right? isn’t that just enough? I mean face it, I’d like to be the same sort of quiet wandering spirit as I believe all American native Indians are, or have the same sort of natural zenny depth as all Japanese seem to posess, but it’s not going to happen, I’ll always be the same loudmouthy, over-privileged european white kid as I was simply born to be. This kind of mix of believing in the pre-assumptions and images that exist about races on the one hand AND in the explicit character of the individual on the other is the reason I believe in a thing I like to call EMBRACISM. Embracism is racism embraced by an individual influenced by society as we experience it. Embracing the differences between the races, differences based on truths and on hearsay/gut feelings.

Luckily, my friend Martijn van Berkum and his friends at the point-of-view weblog found this weblog for everyone to enjoy. It’s about my race -yet, those brought up in the US, there’s a difference you know…- and it’s hilarious(ly on point). It’s called Stuff white people like, please check it out asap.

PS. Go see Stöma and The New Earth Group perform at the NAi this saturday. Starts at 9 pm. for free!

oooh baby, baby it’s a wild world

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For years I try to make art, while my brother and his girl give it one single try and look what they come up with. Earth people, here he is: Gabriel, probably one of the best babies to ever been born. It all happened last friday night march 14 2008, while you guys were having diner, watching tv, drinkin’ beers, seein’ exhibitions, kissing strangers, getting robbed, or maybe even giving birth yourself. Here’s to life!

photo: grampa Aad

Tourism 5

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Some things can’t be told…