Procrastinating again

Sometimes I love my apartment so much that I want the whole world to come to me instead of the other way around. I am renting my place this summer because of research fellowships and I feel like I am passing off a child or a treasured pet to strangers. What will I do when there are no soothing rows of Art in America (every single issue since 1982) to look at? No New York Art Book Fair 2008 poster to contemplate? No cerulean blue Thonet chair stolen from University surplus to sit on? No 400-thread-count sheets to fuck in? No midcentury teak desk for my dog to sleep under? Maybe the renter will let me drop in and visit.

All oppression is connected, you dick

So I'm an aspiring scholar of Modern art, right, but lately I've been reading a lot of postcolonial theory and taking classes that have subjected me to bad performance poetry and uplifting nonprofit speak. I'm starting to appreciate this. After spending the afternoon with Mike Davis' "Magical Urbanism: Latinos Reinvent the U.S. City," I've generated a short list of "Don'ts" for those aspiring to live a more ethical life and remain conscious of exploited populations, even while living in a vastly wealthy first-world nation where one can [and I do] eat cake every day.

How to have Ethics:

1) Don't buy new computers

2) Don't buy a new car

3) Don't buy new clothes from just about anywhere (in Burberry yesterday I spotted a "Made in Haiti" tag on one of their garments - !!!)

4) If you want to invest in the stock market, you should hire one of those specialists that only picks stocks from green and labor-friendly companies

There, you rich brats. Suck on that.

For this class that has brought me all this nice reading, I'm going to get hold of a recording of this song: http://unionsong.com/u103.html and think about labor and vision for a while.