William Blanchard in Redchurch Street, or the death of art spells the murder of artists, the real anti-artists appear….

Although The Maurice Einhardt Neu Gallery (30A Redchurch Street, London E2 7DP) has set opening times, it doesn’t always stick to them. I was curious about their William Blanchard show (24 April -6 May 2009), but whenever I turned up to see it, the joint was closed. Fortunately, at 15,24 on 4 May 2009, I got the following text message: “William Blanchard show open now for 3 hours. Sexton.” The message was from Martin Sexton who runs the Artwars Project Space on the opposite side of the street, and who’d kindly agreed to text me when the Blanchard show was viewable.
Stopping only to finish the cup of coffee I’d just made, I jumped on my bicycle and peddled furiously all the way from the Isle of Dogs to Shoreditch. Once more the space was locked but after I’d banged on the door for a bit, gallery director Martin J Tickner opened up. He apologised for the fact that there were amplifiers and other pieces of musical equipment immediately in front of the single wall on which Blanchard’s work was hung, explaining: “The boys came back from doing a gig last night and we haven’t stored their gear away yet.” I’d heard the gallery was also used as a music rehearsal studio and knew that Tickner’s partner in the gallery was Sean McLusky, who’d had five minutes of fame with the hit song Boxerbeat in the 1980s, when he’d been in boy band JoBoxers.
Moving on, William Blanchard’s work is very punk rock, being both slapdash and not very good. The pieces were assemblages and/or crude collages within box-like frames, plus a solitary sculpture entitled Rocking Unicorn (price £199.99). The two best pieces are American Buns (18.3′ x 13.7′, price £199.99) and Tiger Bruce Lee (16′ x 12.5′, price £99.99). The later shows a still of Bruce Lee from the fight scene with Han at the climax of Enter The Dragon with his teeth bared in anger, and pasted next to this is a roaring tiger! American Buns features a photograph of a nude model holding her breasts collaged over a shooting target, above the model’s bleached hair is a fragment of newspaper with the headline ‘This Is America”, on either side are pieces of a paper US  flag and, at the bottom of the work, a wrapper emblazoned with the words ‘American Buns’ that incorporates the US flag into its design; finally there is an empty can of coke with a small American flag protruding from it, sitting on a shelf on the left-hand side of the assemblage. The classic red, white and blue colour scheme is one of the factors that help this piece almost work aesthetically; likewise. the predominant yellow of Tiger Bruce Lee is what lifts that collage from being simply bad, to being so bad it is good. Other pieces, such as Bugz 1 and Bugz 2 (both 19′ x 17′ and priced at £199.99), which consist of rubber bug toys arranged in lines in a box, are merely crap.
I’d wanted to see Blanchard’s show because a press release claimed his inspiration came from Joesph Cornell and Wallace Berman. The Cornell influence I could just about see, albeit filtered through the prism of punk rock failure, but where Berman came into the equation wasn’t evident to me. So I asked Martin Tickner about this:
TRIPPY: I can’t really see the Wallace Berman influence in this, and that was why I wanted to see the show, because it supposedly took up his esoteric interests. Berman has a very specific relationship to Jewish mysticism.
TICKNER: I suppose it’s more Joseph Cornell in the work. I don’t know much about Wallace Berman myself.
TRIPPY: Did you see the Wallace Berman show at Camden Arts Centre?
TICKNER: No, but there’s a Berman show on in Spitalfields right now.
TRIPPY: Really? Where?
TICKNER. In Spitalfields, in the place owned by the son of J. Sainsbury.
TRIPPY: You mean Alex Sainsbury’s gallery Raven Row. That’s not a Berman show, that’s a Ray Johnson exhibition.
For me, what Tickner had to say summed up everything that is good about The Maurice Einhardt Neu Gallery; in short, its total disconnection from the London art world. The space is pure grunge with black walls, strip lights and other than a grimy window, absolutely no other illumination. Despite the gallery’s self-evident status as a rock ‘n’ roll toilet, there is nonetheless an aura of fakery about the place, since its famous art world friends – as listed on its website – allegedly include figures such as Robert Motherwell and Dieter Roth, both of whom died before it was even founded. Assemblage is absolutely the most ridiculous exhibition I’ve seen for some time, and that’s high praise indeed for a show in which a few works are so bad they are good, with the rest being simply… well shit!
And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – www.stewarthomesociety.org – you know it makes (no) sense!

Comments

Comment by Michael K on 2009-05-06 11:45:03 +0000

I heard William Blanchard lives with Siobhan Fahey of Bananarama, now is that cool or what? Not that I like listening to Bananarama but a lot of guys used to like “talking Italian” to their videos…..Phnoar!

Comment by Michael K on 2009-05-06 12:14:29 +0000

I’ve been once again burning the complete works of Stewart Home in my garden (where I grow things for myself, not to supply Tesco’s) having done this several times before (I think) and prompted by late night phone-calls from Home (or someone purporting to be him) claiming that I’ve been a parasite upon his belly for too long, that I’m essentially cloning his oeuvre which consists of a multi-faceted monologue of his nerdy enthusiasms for those things in which asserts expert knowledge and his snobbish dismissals of those things whose more appeal swats aside the occultish closed systems of the nerdish and enters the best-seller charts.
It is an accusation that I take seriously since I have been fully engaged, since I suffering the misfortune of discovering my name in one of his terrifying books, in attempting to find the needle in the haystack of mulched detritus that he calls ‘Home’ with which I can….erm…I’ve forgotten. The problem for me and many others similarly inclined to use Home as a reference book of interesting topics is having to wade through the swamps of muck that the hapless former warehouseman has excavated in support of his essential claim to be….erm..I’ve forgotten.
Of course, as soon as I’d burned the containers of this septic tank of regurgitated sludge, what should I find but all of his works are back on my shelves and being fingered enthusiastically my would-be members of the Michael K multiple name project too mean to use their Paypal accounts to consume this intellectual waste of the decades with their own CA$H.
Tomorrow, I will try again, in the meantime settling down to watch a documentary about people who have never heard of London as antidote to the interminable recolonisation of culture by the bleedin’ english

Comment by The Real Tessie on 2009-05-06 13:01:56 +0000

Michael is arguing with either himself again or one of his clones, and all that makes perfect sense to me coz you’re never alone with a schizophrenic… But what I don’t understand is why you bothered to write up the William Blanchard show if it is so shit…..

Comment by Ricardo Terrori on 2009-05-06 13:56:27 +0000

I think Stewart wrote about this show even if he think it is shit for the same reason I was paralyzed for a crappy show in the New Gallery of some Juan Pablo Moro here in Santiago. I was invited, and at arrival, the owner said to me and other people that things weren’t ready yet (the gallery is fancy and in an expensive gentrified area, is not an alternative venture at all). Waited for a while just in front of it but encountered a cuasi-friend who have been in jail for 4 years and was just out of it and working as a janitor in the record shop next to the gallery. When we returned to the opening, it was crowded of galley goers, drinking pisco and eating bacon and other delicious stuff that I did not wanted to know. The art works I was able to see were boring B/W photos of lamposts, something I have seen before. I couldn’t see the other spaces in the new galler, because of the general hysteria and excitement. Notwithstanding, I felt pity for the enthusiastic tone the person who invited me used in his e-mail:
“Hola , para no volver a enviarles un mail colectivo tan extenso como la última vez, he decidido dosificar la información, para los que viven en Chile ,deben de haberse dado cuenta que de un tiempo a la fecha, la actividad de las Artes visuales ha tomado un ritmo inusitado, que muchos de nosotros hemos querido desde hace mucho tiempo, por fortuna para todos los que nos dedicamos al ARTE en CHILE , los espacios han variado y se han diversificado, les escribo ,pues, en los próximos días se abren dos nuevos proyectos que me llenan de ORGULLO, el primero :es el de mi GALERO-AMIGO , JUAN PABLO MORO, sí, mi obseso galerista abrirá un nuevo espacio el Miércoles 29 de Abril , me sumo a su energía de difusión y les hago llegar su invitación, lo más bello de todo , es que luego las hermanas-amigas de Galería AFA abrirán su nuevo espacio, los dos reconquistando el CENTRO de SANTIAGO y además ,los dos proyecto de arquitectura,a cargo de ELODIE FULTON ,como ven tengo de que sentirme ORGULLOSO, espero que nos veamos en la inauguración, un abrazo, Coco.”
So, “Coco” is the artist-art teacher who invited me, but I couldn’t share his extremely good mood about it all because I didn’t feel like having nothing in common with all those people or the objects hanging from the walls. “Coco” knows that I’m into street art, collage and experimental stuff ( I have a brief cameo in the british-edited book STREET ART CHILE by Rodney Palmer).
So I think is fantastic that Stewart is able to write about all of this shit because I’m to depressed to do my part of it anymore.

Comment by Dixon of Dock Green on 2009-05-06 14:15:28 +0000

‘Allo, ‘allo, ‘allo. Wot’s goin’ on ‘ere then? An art exhibition in Shoreditch? It wouldn’t ‘ave ‘appened in my time. Remember kids, things were better in the black and white 1950s. People still ‘ad resepct for authority.

Comment by Oedipussy on 2009-05-06 14:19:01 +0000

I’ve worked it out by now…nobody ever reads these blogs…they just come to leave comments. I left mine earlier so this one amounts to a restatement. Of course Home is running scared now since The NeoisT Network was reactivated by a gang of K intent on reconfiguring it to support the beyond ego of a gang of K intent on being preceived (sic) as one and the same prior to the revelation. Erm..or something.
Meanwhile that new biography of Engels by Tristram Hunt, ‘The Frock-Coated Communist’ is the revelation itself. A fox-hunting upper-class millionaire poof, indeed!
“While Marx was working on Das Kapital in the British Museum, Engels’s “toiling in the cotton trade [funded his] intellectual exertions”.
And Marx kept asking Engels for more, even though he was better off than most members of the Victorian middle class. Engels was not a good manager. He found the labour theory more interesting than the price of groceries. This double irony – the theory of communism worked out at the expense of the working poor and the remedy for the world’s economic ills prescribed by a financial incompetent – make a neat introduction to the moral question that Hunt’s book poses. Should we care about a philosopher’s lifestyle or are his ideas all that matters?
The word that best describes Engels’s early manhood is “louche”. But Hunt assures us that “the great Lothario, slave to Paris’s finest grisettes and rough seducer… profoundly matured” by his early 60s. In the interim, he drank heavily. He also rode to hounds with the Cheshire Hunt. My hunting neighbours continually tell me that blood sports are a classless occupation. Yet I still find something ridiculous in the hero of Soviet intellectuals following a field led by the future Duke of Westminster – the unreadable chasing the uneatable.
He had moments of gentle concern, including the virtual adoption of Marx’s illegitimate son when he was disowned by his father. But the virtue that shaped his life was the self-sacrificial affection he felt for Marx. The paradoxes of his life as cotton magnate and revolutionary socialist, as well as the complication of his theories, make his story difficult to tell. Tristram Hunt discharges the task with remarkable clarity.”

Comment by Michael Roth on 2009-05-06 14:31:51 +0000

Oedipussy, I only come here to read my own comments.

Comment by The William Blanchard Klone on 2009-05-06 14:36:55 +0000

Thanks K for pointing out that no one reads Home’s garbage and they only come on here to comment. I certainly haven’t read his utterly unfair review of my work because if I had I’d be more than a little upset that he called it ‘shit’. But since I haven’t read the review I’m not going to be crying over mean comments like: “Assemblage is absolutely the most ridiculous exhibition I’ve seen for some time, and that’s high praise indeed for a show in which a few works are so bad they are good, with the rest being simply… well shit!” Oh and I loved your novel “I Shot Valerie Solanas” too, much better than crap like “Memphis Underground”!

Comment by Anthony. J. Feifar on 2009-05-06 14:38:51 +0000

As a jurisprudential author I suppose that I am entitled to engage in historical interpretation as much as the next person, so, here I go. The Communist Manifesto was apparently first published in the year 1848. Now, the story that I have always been told about Karl Marx, the author of the Communist Manifesto, was, that he was married, had two small children, and was poor. Seemingly not able to afford an office to write from, Marx is said to have authored the Communist Manifesto at a table at the British Museum, in London, England. One can almost imagine the poor Marx huddled with his poor wife and children around a heat vent at the British Museum in the middle of winter, with Marx taking a break between chapters of his manuscript.

Comment by Paul McCartney on 2009-05-06 14:39:49 +0000

Agreed! We’re only here for the beer, erm I mean comments!

Comment by Oedipussy on 2009-05-06 14:46:44 +0000

Hey Michael I only come in here to get my shoes polished and read your comments!! Life is full of coincidents like this. And that coffee machine is free!

Comment by Paul McCartney on 2009-05-06 14:50:47 +0000

Oops, I should have said we’re only here for the coffee and the comments! Definitely the best espresso machine I’ve come across in virtual space…. most meat space coffee is piss weak in comparison. And you lot come on pretty strong in the comments too! I like that. Is there anyone here into sploshing?

Comment by I Shot Valerie Solanas on 2009-05-06 14:53:37 +0000

The comment form The Clearly Fake Willaiam Blanchard Klone earlier reveals that he is clearly a fake. Everybody reading this blog response already knows that Michael K has never written a word of the books he keeps excerpting at sites across the blogafrodome. Not only do the books not exist but K is clearly a mere stalking horse set up by the enemies of the K project to discredit his anti-materialism!

Comment by The Entrirely Typo-afficted Michael K on 2009-05-06 14:58:52 +0000

I wrote my (extremely) critical biography of Home. ‘Defiant Prose’, published TOADY by X$X Books as a purgative exercise to try to rid myself of the inflamed semanto-politique set up by reading too much Home in the early nineties. Of course Home is a penny-dreadful pornographer of the micropolitical! But that is (not) the point! The point is that in trying to rid myself (and therefore the whole world of letters) from the intractable squidge engendered by ordering his pamphlets directly from BM Senior, HP22 4RS, The UK, I have….but it really doesn’t matter. Home is finished! He hasn’t written a word for at least two years!

Comment by Michael K on 2009-05-06 15:01:22 +0000

I’ve been once again burning the complete works of Stewart Home in my garden (where I grow things for myself, not to supply Tesco’s) having done this several times before (I think) and prompted by late night phone-calls from Home (or someone purporting to be him) claiming that I’ve been a parasite upon his belly for too long, that I’m essentially cloning his oeuvre which consists of a multi-faceted monologue of his nerdy enthusiasms for those things in which asserts expert knowledge and his snobbish dismissals of those things whose more appeal swats aside the occultish closed systems of the nerdish and enters the best-seller charts.
It is an accusation that I take seriously since I have been fully engaged, since I suffering the misfortune of discovering my name in one of his terrifying books, in attempting to find the needle in the haystack of mulched detritus that he calls ‘Home’ with which I can….erm…I’ve forgotten. The problem for me and many others similarly inclined to use Home as a reference book of interesting topics is having to wade through the swamps of muck that the hapless former warehouseman has excavated in support of his essential claim to be….erm..I’ve forgotten.
Of course, as soon as I’d burned the containers of this septic tank of regurgitated sludge, what should I find but all of his works are back on my shelves and being fingered enthusiastically my would-be members of the Michael K multiple name project too mean to use their Paypal accounts to consume this intellectual waste of the decades with their own CA$H.
Tomorrow, I will try again, in the meantime settling down to watch a documentary about people who have never heard of London as antidote to the interminable recolonisation of culture by the bleedin’ english

Comment by Samplism-The Impossible History on 2009-05-06 15:15:42 +0000

The Post_Samplist Internotional, founded at the same moment as the movement it superseded, now aims to revive plagiarism a serious threat to texts worldwide. The previous ‘pissing around’ (often referred to as the amplic phase) by two or three tossers in London for the purposes of tree-felling name-in-print is seen as a departure point for an all-out aggressive…erm…I’ll finish this important polemic later

Comment by Mister Dog on 2009-05-06 15:22:40 +0000

Woof woof!

Comment by Díre McCain on 2009-05-06 17:11:56 +0000

There once was a schizo named Struther
Who learned of the death of his brother
He said, “Yes, it is bad,
But I don’t feel too sad,
After all, I still have each other…”

Comment by Ricardo Terrori on 2009-05-06 18:08:42 +0000

It seems to me that there is some kind of connection between Mr. K and Hegel. So far as I am situated from that lovely capital over the broad stream of the Thames river, I’ve herad the ridiculous rumour of a check kept in some London museum, extended to some Karl Marx by a Rothschild family member, and that even that name “Roth-schild” could be mean Red Shield, or a shield for the reds. But anyone living in Venezuela, Cuba, Chile or the former Soviet Union should know that State Capitalism could or could not be a meditated offsprig of old-Marx, who hated himself as a young man, so investing part of his in time travel in order to convince -or force- humself in the past to give up the revolutinary work and start writing crap like das Kapital, or even worse, The Communist Manifesto. Notwithsatanding, some Borfiga guy in Italy, who was visited by youn Karl in he future, could been warned by him of not buying his Old Karl shit, the same with those situationist guys, that discovered in some Paris basement another spot to time travel and get to know young Karl. It is said that Mr. K knew of this experiments and used his money to try to reproduce them, searching for ancient illuminati formulae encoded in the sex scenes in Stewart Home’s early stories, but something went wrong and know hi needs to get ride of Home’s meme container before young Michael K come from the past and tell him like it is, or even beta him savagely with the aid of young Stewart, while Florian Cramer, the crazy but infinetely clever mathematician behind the time travel device, reads some Istvan Cantor poems aloud, which contains large portions of aproppiated Hegel in it.

Comment by Ricardo Terrori on 2009-05-06 18:14:59 +0000

And thats why all the tpyos emerge as a consecuence of time tarvel related dizziness, and also this explain why so many people keep returning to Mr. Tripy’s blog as the only constant in the complicated mathematic equation needed to time travel.

Comment by Michael Roth on 2009-05-06 19:55:05 +0000

As a Roths-child I can freely admit that I have no idea what anyone is talking about. Who are Hegal, Marx, Stewart Home, Michael K, Florian Cramer, Dire McCain, Ricardo Terrori, William Blanchard, and/or Tessie? I have a feeling that this is all part of an extended hallucination I’ve been having for roughly 3 years, at least from what I’m able to piece together during brief lucid moments.
Am I me yet?

Comment by Ricardo Terrori on 2009-05-06 20:51:24 +0000

Identity through Food
(a mini fiction)
My name is Richard Terrori. I’m a Fujitopikavötysaktivarian, and a Megan. That means that I don’t eat nothing that contains Fujitopikavötysakti in it. No wait, it means that I ONLY eat Fujitopikavötysakti. And that I grow it myself in my Mega. And that’s the big theme of my entire life.
For instance, when I meet a person in a pub, first thing I tell to s/he is
“I’m Fujitopikavötysaktivarian, and I mean it”.
“Oh!”, says the other person.
“Yeah”, I say, proudly. “That makes me very special, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, well…”
“Ah!, you of course eat a lot of things and not ONLY Fujitopikavötysakti, right?”
“Well, at work I always eat a sandwich…”
“A SANDWICH! So fuckin disgusting! You have to leave that! Is poison!”
“Well, I don’t know…”
“You don’t know??!! Ignorant! Stupid fascist scum!”
In other ocasions, I meet with people that are Fujitopikavötysaktivarians too, just to feel that humanity still has some hope.
I have a blog where I teach you how to be a I’m Fujitopikavötysaktivaria.
Why to be a Fujitopikavötysaktivarian?
Because you have to be something at all!

Comment by mistertrippy on 2009-05-06 21:21:34 +0000

Wow this is so tripped out I can’t even follow it. These comments are a pure groove sensation. But personally I don’t go for this separation between the young and mature Marx, although I don’t go with Bordiga who suggested that the complete works of Marx taken in their entirety provide a description of communism either. But Marx will take you for a trip on his magic swriling ship, all your senses will be stripped…. and at last you too can be initiated into THE SECRET BEHIND TIME – that a few fools believe was discovered by the Illuminati but was actually known in ancient Africa!

Comment by jim seventies on 2009-05-06 23:34:17 +0000

the london buy-to-let art scene – what a load of shit!

Comment by Ricardo Terrori on 2009-05-06 23:46:06 +0000

It surprises me that the any of the concept of the “splitted” Marx could be got with all those typos and bad grammar, but that old trope is being retold for a while now…being the most popular popularizers the situs and pro situs themselves, I think. I’m well aware of the relevance of ancient Africa, being as i am a former fan of Pazuzu, and of the irrelevance of the teutonic A.f.r.i.k.k.a. group, but as Bergson asks :“Would not the whole of history be contained in a very short time for a consciousness at a higher degree of tension than our own?”
In the other hand, I don’t like punks and skins beating people up for not being vegan, vegetarian or the like, even while I myself don’t eat a big deal of meat, maybe 100 gms a month; I rather prefer potatoes, tomatos and lettuce, but to me is even worse not to acknowledege that hunger is a very paralyzing thing, so the lack of revolution could be more connected to lack of good food than one can imagine, and not the opposite. Maybe the attacks on the parisian bakeries when the first day of the French revolution is a myth, and they were already closed and with no bread in them. So Karl, not too interested in food himself, I believe, but in more intellectual nurturing matters, maybe knew the value of ETHER, as a medium for his ship to move, and as a kind of food too. This is why it is said that the reflecting Ether is the “lower octave” of the fourth or Archetypal Region of the World of Thought, and therefore reflects, or RESOUNDS WITH the pictures of the Memory of Nature, AND WITH ALL OTHER FORCES WHICH BELONG TO THAT HIGH REALM.
Those who have attained to this knowledge all record that it must be felt to be understood, but that, so far as words are of use, it is ever of the nature of a reconciliation; of discord blending into harmony, of difference merging into unity.

Comment by Muffin Man on 2009-05-07 00:34:44 +0000

Some people… some people like cupcakes exclusively, while myself, I say… there is naught nor ought there be nothing so exalted on the face of god’s grey earth as that prince of foods… the muffin!

Comment by ? on 2009-05-07 04:38:09 +0000

The Table – Do The Standing Still // The Magical Melon of the Tropics (Virgin) 1977. How do you even explain this one? I mean really. It comes out in 1977, the year of all things punk, and yet here they are already fucking with the format. Who was responsible for communications on this project? Because along with Wire, The Soft Boys and Big in Japan, The Table clearly didn’t get the memo. Or maybe they did and they just decided to throw it away and carry on with what they were doing. There is a pre-punk thing going on here that is manifested most obviously in the bands graphics, song titles and lyricism. How about that organ solo at solo at 1:26 of The Magical Melon of the Tropics? Check out 1:48. Very psychedelic. Were the Table a bunch of Soft Machine acid droppers who got energized by punk rock and released two kick-ass 45s in 77-78? Who knows. That will be my hypothesis until evidence proves otherwise. Strange thing is, especially with Do The Standing Still, this things sounds pretty post-punk as well. How is that possible. I think it might be the acid.

Comment by ? on 2009-05-07 04:41:12 +0000

Many journalists fail to appreciate that PUNK is a novelty genre because it works best when it is played ‘straight’, which means that self-styled ‘contemporary cultural critics’ are free to make fools of themselves by indulging their penchant for literalism. Imagine what someone like Groovy Greil Marcus could do with the ‘surreal’ lyrics of Do The Standing Still by the Table, a 1977 release on Virgin that gives the punk use of the established dance lyric format an ‘art’ spin. Over a bass line that’s as inspired as anything to be found within the Rezillos output, the singer intones the following: ‘On my window sill in the morning / I can hear the wild geese calling / Do the standing still.’ While this is a catchy song with a good punch line, the rest of the words simply aren’t interesting enough to be worth reproducing.

Comment by Msmarmitelover on 2009-05-07 07:20:06 +0000

Very witty review Mr Trippy. I remember the joboxers. They all wore flat caps, short trousers, braces and Doctor Martens. Nice to hear that they are in-laws with Bananarama.

Comment by Kentucky Fried History on 2009-05-07 12:29:52 +0000

It doesn’t matter what Colour of underpants Marx was wearing when he had to slip out for a quick waz while plagiarising his theory of…erm..I’ll remember later…what’s important is that this document became the basis on which millions of people were slaughtered, tortured, imprisoned, suppressed and so on worldwide. Therefore, it’s not so much issues of lifestyle or ideas that important (and let’s face it the latter were so numpty pumpty utopian that you’d think the working class were going round handing flowers to each other all day), but the effect.
Das Kapital shouldn’t be on sale in Waterstones any more than Mein Kampf…
Put that one in your beard and shave it, comrades.

Comment by mistertrippy on 2009-05-07 14:05:27 +0000

It is more than a little silly to equate the authors of Dad Kapital and Mein Kampf in this way. To state the obvious, Marx was not responsible for a single death, and had he been around to witness Leninism and Stalinism then it seems more than probable he would have denounced them (since as capitalist states they were the antithesis of everything he advocated – i.e. they were class based capitalist regimes; whereas Marx advocated the abolition of classes, the abolition of states and the abolition of money, all of which runs counter to what the Bolsheviks did where they achieved power). On the other hand, Hitler installed himself as a dictator and was personally responsible for the millions murdered by the fascist regime he headed. Maybe you should try reading some Marx, it might improve your understanding of him.

Comment by Howling Wizard, Shrieking Toad on 2009-05-07 15:28:06 +0000

‘On my window sill in the morning / I can hear the wild geese calling / Do the standing still.’

Comment by Kentucky Fried History on 2009-05-07 18:45:36 +0000

That’s what all the Christians say to me too but I’ve read the Bible AND Dad Kapital. IS it perhaps that someone needs to change the record?
schhh hh schhh schhh chhh

Comment by Michael Roth on 2009-05-07 19:21:04 +0000

Just checked out the Neu Gallery website ( http://neugalleries.com/ ) but there was only one piece by Blanchard shown there. To me, it was obvious, boring and lacked any real artistic depth. Not sure if this is indicitive of the rest of the show. Of course, viewing a picture via the web is not the same as seeing it in person.

Comment by raymond anderson on 2009-05-07 22:29:41 +0000

You say potato and I say potato.

Comment by Ricardo Terrori on 2009-05-07 22:58:28 +0000

In my sorry and not-exotic-enough country (yeah, I don’t follow Markunin about patriotism), Mein Kampf is sold freely in the “bu” stations, as well as Das Kapitol. Young readers here are exposed to those terribly engaging memes everyday, and that does not seems to affect a bit the inflationary trend in food prices. In the other hand, Punk, being an imported commodity which found fertile ground in southamerican countries well known for being hide-outs of the nazi elite, such as Chile, Argentina and Brazil, is doing extremelly well, and local punks in these countries acknowledged as the punkest punks in the subcontinent. This doesn’t mean that our hippies are not still influential, over all in the depressing official culture, where normally, no one have read Hitler nor Marx.

Comment by David Martins on 2009-07-23 07:28:57 +0000

I don’t understand! What are all these comments about The Table doing here??

Comment by mistertrippy on 2009-07-23 14:03:55 +0000

Oh it’s like post-modernism a-go-go here, so ‘the kids’ just let their hair down… well as far as they can coz we’re from a generation that dug short hair, post-hippie man…. And the readers who know much about me, or have read my book on punk know that I dig that Table single “Do The Standing Still” even more than “Do The Robot” by The Saints and almost as much as “Oh! Mom (Teach Me How To Uncle Willie)” by The Daylighters…..

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