#PearlHarbor
// J Kent
"We were talking about Paris."
I arrived at the restaurant. Before I've taken my seat I’m told:
The Eiffel Tower?
I didn't know what you meant,
A pause: a beat of condescension.
Collective consciousness had evolved in the past six hours and I had missed the tide.
The shootings. A concert. Terror.
"I don't have a smartphone, or the internet at home---I didn't know."
I said
The expectation of being a global citizen. The expectation of empathy. The expectation of not knowing how to
not / know / what / to / do.
ROBIN WILLIAMS IS DEAD:
"Wow...So sad...SH*T!! A true legend...RIP...Oh no! So tragic...Very Very sad news..Such a terrible loss..."
And the inclusion of a visual. A face in torment. Actually the inclusion of a colon and then a parenthesis
( :( )
This is a picture of my sadness--An annotation of my sadness.
:(
“Talk about a rough Monday”
“ lol #stabbed, #Cantfeelmyleg ”
A trio of images: a wide angle shot of the leg, a close up of the wound, and the girl’s face, surprisingly devoid of emotion other than the signifier of stained mascara trails.
(
“Aniconism is the absence of material representations of the natural and supernatural world in various cultures, particularly in the monotheistic Abrahamic religions.” From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
)
I stand in a field with a farmer. He gazes over the horizon and tells me his wife has become a born again Christian. They no longer have sex. He married a hippy who rode motorcycles and wore white leather.
Now he fathers a large denim-clad brood, that everyone pretends he wants:
“It is lonely, but I have my online forums. Other like-minded people out there that I am connected to. Without them…”
We return to looking out and looking within…
… Lebanon… / …Chrissy Teigan…
Trending topics: … Paris … /
"At least 127 dead”
"At least 43 killed"
"Model wears sheer lace top to event in West Hollywood."
We spot the seams / we point out the glitch / superior in finding Waldo / noticing the fly that has buzzed into the film shot / smarter than the director / THERE IS NO GREAT AND POWERFUL OZ /
We are stooped and swollen, unable to carry the weight of our own minds.
A chiropractor once told me
People carry bowling balls atop broomsticks
But the house always wins and the systems we create are only mirrors:
It is a closed circuit.
A photograph from Vice I want to reference.
I cannot locate the screen-capture on my computer.
I go to Google.
I type in "vice photos from the holocaust".
In seconds I have what I want—
In seconds I have what I want—
“NAZI-ERA SNAPSHOTS AND THE BANALITY OF EVIL”
The photos, a collection from the daily lives of people aligned with the Nazi party during the war. The quotidian of the everyday. The writer of the article suggests surprise. Disbelief at the presence of picnics, or smiling children, or Hitler’s vegetarianism and his love of dogs. And then a photo of a wooden picnic table, bodies atop and encircling it, a group of men in the distance, their backs to the camera. “I see a massacre.” The interviewee responds:
“Yes, a little massacre, with what I believe is a rape.”
My mouse hovers over the image and two small icons appear. Ever helpful, ever ready. Always ready, always waiting. It is suggested that I might wish to link this image to my personal FaceBook, or perhaps I may wish to Pin the image to a board on Pintrest?
A photograph of five dead: digital content.
“I see a massacre.”
An outrage. A disbelief. A cry for justice.
SpaghettiO's told us on Instagram to—"Take a moment to remember #PearlHarbor"— a smiling pasta ring proudly holding a flag on Twitter. People complained. Perhaps someone was fired. I hope justice was served.
How long must we mourn?
What is the correct period for grief?
How long should your profile picture show your support?
If you are still a rainbow then you have missed the boat.
Times have changed.
When does PULSE become just a way to talk about heartbeats?
I remember the first time El Niño was forgotten and remembered as
another way to speak of children.
Trending topics.
Use your 15 minutes for good.
We are all good people—
Unless you are one of the bad people.
T H E B A N A L I T Y O F E V I L
If you post a photo of a doughnut the day after a massacre are you still a caring person?
Watching and caring—
Looking and caring—
Clicking and caring—
Shopping and caring—
Linking and caring.
“I wish there was an dislike button !”
I care so much.
A girl in the café where I write this:
A photograph of a tulip on her computer screen.
She takes out her phone and photographs the desktop.
A photograph of a photograph. “I see a massacre.”
A photograph as record, a photograph as a memory. The memory of her screen, a moment in time.
T H E B A N A L I T Y O F E V I L
Now a new moment. She sends the new image to someone. A new image of an old thing.
I think of the original tulip. How there once was a living bulb before there was a photograph. That flower is probably long dead. But there once was a flower.
But now no memory of Holland, or what it is like to feel the sun, or cross an ocean, or Sundays.
How brilliant.
How death-defying we now are.
* * * * * *
I can’t remember the details, I may have been drunk. I tell the person I am talking to:
“I am afraid, because I think we are loosing our ability to distinguish images from people.”
The other person laughed,
“That’s just it, images are never people, only representations.”
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