Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Intelligence this Translucent…
Language and Seduction/Future sex games

Kofi Fosu Forson

Intelligence is as ice much the brilliance in cool light, transparent yet possessed by thin matter of film. Language was then and is virgin. Future sex games will emanate from virtual reality.

What we have failed to do is cultivate fashion as semiotic, sex as seduction and text as pleasurable. The domination behind this impotency has more to do with serial raping of language. That the virgin within has been stripped of the Botticelli red bra, used to tie her against the bed post and dully raped for hours.

What of the literal and actual rape? Where does it find its mark in society? By all means those who commit violent acts need be prosecuted. From The Rape of the Sabine Women to the rampantly shocking nature of Diamanda Galas, history has called upon a deterioration of the soul. Those who manifest redeem themselves as our thinkers of the day, Dostoyevsky, Dylan, Barthes, Tarrentino, 2 Pac and a host of others who pave the way for a rabid culture.

Intelligence this translucent causes a reaffirming of where we are in time. We are among paradise lost. This is our waste land. Our 2001 Space Odyssey celluloid dream has become reality. Are we then retreating to the place of birth or do we venture into the eternal reality of death?

Instinctively, life is lived in the second. Much of this has been proven in day to day communication. How does the envisioning of life as techno, hyper and virtual meet the evolution of language? Are we short listing its potential? Was it not a dream to write The Great American Novel? Did David Foster Wallace leave us speechless with Infinite Jest?

Academia and pop culture were given discernment in The Closing of The American Mind and The Decline of Western Civilization. It was a time of assessment and understanding. That decisive query about who we were was articulated in Tama Janowitz’s Slaves of New York.

The conclusion drawn can be found in The Whitney Biennial, two years ago. Are we as Americans the dominant culture? Do Africans who adopt a life in America truly define the term “African American?” Is Obama new wave? Does he bring considerable light to language? Or does politics meet a conclusive turn in its understanding as gender, cultural, sexual, national and world.

Intelligence this translucent demands a conclusion. We manage by networking, developing a web of articulation by people who feel the same about thought processes with the hopes of forming a link through the greater World Wide Web.

The blog has improved my philosophical text. How does text-messaging encourage the seduction of language? Much to the contrary, it does. Any means of articulation is managed with imagination and passion.

What we need to do in order to imbibe this stress of intellectual light is form a gathering, like pockets of people who think a certain way. The Beatniks, Hippies, Yuppies have all defined culture. Much of this is necessary. Otherwise we’ll remain or continue in a direction of people with no centeredness, just constant in their references about celluloid culture, internet pornography or the misdirection of politics.

The future of the world depends on the next president of the United States. I certainly hope he speaks French. Or likes Botticelli.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Hypersensual vs Coital
Virtual Reality and Sexualizing of Society
Excerpt from Dialogue between Kofi Fosu and Gaynor Evelyn Sweeney

Somehow after centuries of orgiastic and hedonistic behavior, the human quotient fails to remove itself from the singular act of an erect penis penetrating a woman's moist vagina. Jeff Koon's relevance to this mocks the very act. It doesn't generate any sexual puissance nor does it titillate or accentuate any form of imagination. It isn't also recognized as pornography. It stems from that aura but distinctively his image is concentrated as text, separate from what one would deem as erotic. There's a dulling effect in what is pornographic and means of what is accepted everyday behavior. Somehow the two have merged making display of sexual behavior excerpted from internet pornography.

"The human creature is one instilled with curiosity, such that has pervaded and propelled the history of human advancements in evolution and civilisation. The very core of that intrigue underpins all, indeed the Leonardo Da Vinci's anatomical incisions to venture into the domains of the interior on the human biology and recorded in his drawings to the more post modern consciously explicit of Annie Sprinkle expanding her own vagina vagina for shared insight and audience inspection. Here in this analogy, we have two points of order in various historical contexts. Da Vinci, whom believed by some historians to be gay, homosexual, in contrast to the politics of feminism and feminising the female form are both the same in exposing the mysteries in the various bodily and gender politics of flesh and biology. ..."

The virtual, hypersensuality and sexual philosophy are examples of an existence. They can't be compared with coitus, obviously. But to exist in them is to find an accord with one's sensibility as sexual animal. Those who understand reality within this philosophical abnormality much is credited to their potential. Human contact is precious. Sexual contact is natural. Sexual philosophy is transforming.

I whole heartedly agree with your Kofi. There is more to human relationships, albeit the mode of communication, such is not restricted to the lascivious intent of self love by terminologies of cyber. Life is more and technofied, whether hyper, void or allergic to such, the concept itself of coitus is the sexual dialogue and not one titillation, but the fact of respect, appreciation, adoration, passion, affection and indeed love are that which constitute the very process of sexual and gender exchange.

As in an example of every culture love comes with license. In terms relevant to death, we are all in fear of the exit, not knowing of eternity or any other existence thereabouts. You talked of love. Can you truly love, my lovely and truest beauty, Gaynor. Can you love absent of fear and the ego. Love of self is neither a mission nor a blessing. It's necessity. That craving has helped develop you and me into scrumptious human beings ready to detonate, ready to love in completion, from sex to septuagenaric co-existences. In other words, could you love a seventy year old man in true to real relationship void of sexe. My question to you Gaynor, can you live eternally without having intercourse? I pledge my love for a sixty year old woman free of intercourse much the same the love I have for a sixteen year old. Love is eternal. The physical doesn't equate with the sexual. Life is infinite. Maturity is a form of advancement. Much is deleted to make room for the higher conscience.

The reality is usually very much different, as with the impartiality of technology lines in this communication, the fantasy not only aspires to the vision but to the browser shopping for momentary relief, as such is re-portrayed in text and verse of redesign to themselves to initiate interest from other virtual travellers along the sidewalks of cyber space. The reality would be a box of tissues next to the keyboard for the male visitor or whatever accoutrements either party decide to indulge with during cyber play. Is it love? Is it a replacement of sex and love? No, it is an extension of masturbation. Titillation. The secret, the clandestine, the pornographic, most hide in the sensitivities and sensibilities of life and still prevail even in the 21st century. The social and sexual human interaction is in part deconstruction by this method, but to some too it extends a precursor of techno foreplay to possible meetings, yet statistically the prognosis on longevity of relation germinated by techno encounters is few and far between. The reality is it is void of every other sensory denotation that is experienced when one first meets another and until such transpires then we are left with nothing more than an imprint of possibilities and shaped by our own sexual aspirations.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Hypo Surreal Night

It’s with fond affection that I take this time to express my thanks for all who have visited this very blog. I hope it’s been well served. The process has been enlightening say the list. Moreover, it has helped transform me from artist to that of writer of philosophical text. This is partly due to collaboration with Gaynor Evelyn Sweeney, artist/activist and founder of Transvoyeur. I thank her as colleague and friend.

The creative and philosophical sessions ahead hopefully will find me writing professional articles about contemporary art, making deserved return to theatrical prose, continuing with spirit behind my earlier drawings and honoring those who have helped define me.

I will however blog occasionally. And so stop by and rediscover my earlier blogs and appreciate how much I have grown with dedication and continuous support from you.
-Kofi Fosu Forson-

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Gorilla Heads/Gorilla Girls
“Women form like butterflies…”

Kofi Fosu Forson

I would have followed Bukowski into a ring and watched him read his opponent Baudelaire.

A few gorillas have passed through this life, literary or musical primates who loved or gave of their heart or spirit for city, benefit of country or simply loved woman and indeed were beasts, uncontested, unleveled and undeniably man.

Charles Bukowski fell into my conscience when I first read “love letters” and “hell hath no fury.”

These poems were featured in book called Geography of American Poets. Thought of lover reading his partner love letters he had written her was memorable. “hell hath no fury” was different.

Bukowski had to adopt advice of woman by window to off and leave with another woman in an orange Volkswagen. Since having read this poem, I have continuous fantasy of several women in a car at stop light coming up to seduce me as I walk by.

Does every one have gorilla complex? That is to say an artist larger than life whose body of work defines and defies generation and who are those they’ve loved and left behind?

Certainly Steinbeck owns The Grapes of Wrath, Hemingway and For Whom the Bell Tolls, Charles Mingus through to eternity, Julian Schnabel as a modern day master of debate on who and what is an artist?

I hereby say an artist exists by tradition as manipulator of what is made affordable through genes, technology, environment, psychology and sexuality.

As Bo Diddley sang, “Who do you love?” Well Basquiat loved Malouk and Madonna, hence the infamous fight between these two timeless beauties. Picasso had Dora Maar. Stieglitz and Okeefe was a couple for a lifetime.

Musicians have their share of groupies. It is known that musicians enter the business to meet women. However true of any artist, practice the craft, gain celebrity, make money and women fall at the feet.

Sting of musical band, Police, sang of a Gorilla Girl. I think of gorilla girl as one who accompanies gorilla head…Forever, Marilyn Monroe.

Who are Gorilla Heads of today and who are women that nominate them? We seem to be surrounded by bevy of beautiful women, fantasies of most men and their gorilla heads are athletes, politicians and other celebrities.

Is Norman Mailer's charisma truly dead? You couldn't have bought Sam Sheperd's charm.

I leave it up to one man. In a name..."Clooney"