in tagalog there are no tenses, passive/active voices, or stable subjects. instead there are aspects, actors, beneficiaries, social-reciprocals. this language gets more foreign to me as i learn it.
somewhere during the process of plotting thoughts to words, you need to decide the part of the sentence on which your verb should focus, and attach the appropriate prefix and/or suffix. the actor? the object? the location? the beneficiary, instrument used, or the doer who is forced to do something? the person doing the forcing? victims of calamity, the experiencer of an emotion? that is, tagalog verbs are trained on directionality. where is this act coming from, why, and who is being affected? just a few letters before and after can mean the difference between cooking and being cooked.
the effect is that for a brief moment, or for me a few pained seconds, you consider the relation of actors to objects to place. there's an affix, magpa-, to express an act being done for someone by someone else; makipag- indicates that you're joining an ongoing activity with a specific set of actors; ma- signals the experience of a calamity or emotion; maki- denotes the sharing of resources; paki- a sign of respect.
i'd like to think this means a heightened awareness of power relations and social dynamics, embedded at the level of language and in dynamic relation to one's experience of and in society. and even more, i'd like to think that tagalog forces the speaker to think about what makes it possible to be served, or what actions must always be done together, reciprocally.
[x-posted. is this cheating?]
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
the break/s
Saw a show last night on the tab and behest of friends of mine visiting from the Bay. Said friends are significantly more "with it" (this is what the kids call it, i think) than i, significantly more aware, exposed, ready, eager. The show was at ACT downtown, a show called the break/s: a mixtape for stage written and performed by Marc Bamuthi Joseph, an attempt, i think, to introduce the middle-class, middle-aged white audience of a $50/ticket (!) theater to hip-hop, both as a culture and, to a lesser extent, as a musical genre. (A review that seems to well encapsulate the whiteness of the intended and actual audience can be accessed here.)
Are we all aware how unknowledgeable i am about hip-hop? Anyone? Bueller? Anyone? Anyway, i enjoyed it more or less, although we only paid a total of $60 for four of us with a discount code and a couple of student tix which were only $10. It was worth that much, in that i enjoyed the way he tied the transnationalism of hip-hop culture to a personalized narrative (Haiti to US to Europe to Senegal to US to Cuba to US) and defined hip-hop more as a type of potentiality rather than a specific set of criteria (although isn't this true of all genres, movements, cultures?). Things that failed: poor integration of black male sexuality; unfortunately limited integration of black women (limited to a video clip of :45).
No one i went with liked it, so we can probably say that is was a poor hip-hop performance (i think all of the people i went with are hipper than me, even if k@ is not hip-hopier), but i expect white people understood it madly, loved it. Did it fail, then? What it probably failed to do was provide a real reckoning with hip-hop and the violence of its oppression (both as object of and purveyor of). Did it provide white people with a cathartic experience through the aesthetics of hip-hop? Maybe.
I cannot decide if that is good thing or not. Think y'all should have been here to critique it (i'm sure it would have failed for you), gotten drunk with us and eaten some fucking homemade pizza (we didn't do this last part, but that sounds really good right now).
Are we all aware how unknowledgeable i am about hip-hop? Anyone? Bueller? Anyone? Anyway, i enjoyed it more or less, although we only paid a total of $60 for four of us with a discount code and a couple of student tix which were only $10. It was worth that much, in that i enjoyed the way he tied the transnationalism of hip-hop culture to a personalized narrative (Haiti to US to Europe to Senegal to US to Cuba to US) and defined hip-hop more as a type of potentiality rather than a specific set of criteria (although isn't this true of all genres, movements, cultures?). Things that failed: poor integration of black male sexuality; unfortunately limited integration of black women (limited to a video clip of :45).
No one i went with liked it, so we can probably say that is was a poor hip-hop performance (i think all of the people i went with are hipper than me, even if k@ is not hip-hopier), but i expect white people understood it madly, loved it. Did it fail, then? What it probably failed to do was provide a real reckoning with hip-hop and the violence of its oppression (both as object of and purveyor of). Did it provide white people with a cathartic experience through the aesthetics of hip-hop? Maybe.
I cannot decide if that is good thing or not. Think y'all should have been here to critique it (i'm sure it would have failed for you), gotten drunk with us and eaten some fucking homemade pizza (we didn't do this last part, but that sounds really good right now).
Sunday, July 5, 2009
independence day
I was at the Madison farmer's market at the capitol square and saw the coolest marching flag contingent made up of cute little old white people. I filmed some of the action and forgive me if it makes you recall the works of a certain 'documentarian'. In any case, it's a slice of life here in the Midwest.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Zoo Day
Yesterday we discovered that it was my birthday (who had known?). Discovering it in a timely fashion, however, we made plans for when k@ got back from her interview at the ACLU (-how'd it go? the first questions of our tongues, mine and her sister's, the latter visiting us from California. She is an elementary teacher and this summer she has off. The answer: alright. Malaise a la Jimmy C, the C is for Mr. car-TEAR). We made plans to visit the Woodland Park Zoo, k@ being a fan of zoos generally, my being indifferent to depressed by them, and all of us figuring we should mark this in some manner. We spent maybe 4 hours there, passing and repassing the concrete walks that hid one section of captive animals from another. I was thankful that the Orang-Utans had a large enclosure. Nothing makes me more sad than to see Forest People in a tiny little concrete block like at the Portland Zoo. Well, nothing maybe more than seeing People People in a similar situation.
We saw this dude, too, a Malaysian tapir, the size of a pony. His dick was huge and when he stood up he seemed to be using it to sweep the area under his body, like an elephant might do with their trunk. It was ludicrous and incredible. I admired his dexterity and we moved on.
At home i drank two beers while making pizza. k@ made brownies. We watched Revenge of the Nerds, leading me to the conclusion that the category "nerds" includes: people with glasses, the gross, musicians, gay black men, people with hats, all Asians. Black men whose sexual orientation remains unmarked seemed to be nerd allies.
At the end of last week k@ and i went to Neptune and against a tiny audience of two other teams, k@ and i blew the competition out of the water with our knowledge of the first four seasons of The Simpsons. We won this:
Successful work on my summer paper is minimal. Today i am going to a group interview at Safeway to make some side scratch to support my love of beer and handmade yeasty dough. I await the return of the school year when i feel less like i've fallen into some hipster limbo.
We saw this dude, too, a Malaysian tapir, the size of a pony. His dick was huge and when he stood up he seemed to be using it to sweep the area under his body, like an elephant might do with their trunk. It was ludicrous and incredible. I admired his dexterity and we moved on.
At home i drank two beers while making pizza. k@ made brownies. We watched Revenge of the Nerds, leading me to the conclusion that the category "nerds" includes: people with glasses, the gross, musicians, gay black men, people with hats, all Asians. Black men whose sexual orientation remains unmarked seemed to be nerd allies.
At the end of last week k@ and i went to Neptune and against a tiny audience of two other teams, k@ and i blew the competition out of the water with our knowledge of the first four seasons of The Simpsons. We won this:
Successful work on my summer paper is minimal. Today i am going to a group interview at Safeway to make some side scratch to support my love of beer and handmade yeasty dough. I await the return of the school year when i feel less like i've fallen into some hipster limbo.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
the dirt on these streets, the dirt on my feet
if i had a camera here in madison, i would take photos of the following and send them to you:
- the five foot piles of yellow dirt, several of them in a row, on university ave. the streets that i remembered being bike friendly are now obstructed by giant machines that are real good at moving those piles back and forth. they [the piles, the machines] make the air dusty in the morning when i walk to school, force reroutes, and blow particles in my eyes.
- the buildings-tall mounds of coal or some sort of black mineral at the university power plant i pass on my way to trader joe's. a dirty, shadowy half-hovel towers over the coal, and inside i think is whatever contraption the coal is meant for. it's on a forgotten block (madison seems to have lots of these), and so eerily quiet except for the harsh rumble coming from inside.
- the blister on my foot, the sweat in the crease of my elbows. there are no more free bikes to rent, so i walk everywhere. i don't mind except that last week it was in the high 80s and low 90s.
- allan asleep at his computer in the college library. he stations himself here to avoid our overly warm house and to steal the occasional nap. i'm afraid one day he'll wake up to find his stuff stolen.
- the cheerio that was in the shower drain in the downstairs bathroom. the house we're at was left in a slovenly state. i didn't see this cheerio, but i wish i had.
maybe i'll swipe lumbs' fancy pants camera one day and snap these for you.
- the five foot piles of yellow dirt, several of them in a row, on university ave. the streets that i remembered being bike friendly are now obstructed by giant machines that are real good at moving those piles back and forth. they [the piles, the machines] make the air dusty in the morning when i walk to school, force reroutes, and blow particles in my eyes.
- the buildings-tall mounds of coal or some sort of black mineral at the university power plant i pass on my way to trader joe's. a dirty, shadowy half-hovel towers over the coal, and inside i think is whatever contraption the coal is meant for. it's on a forgotten block (madison seems to have lots of these), and so eerily quiet except for the harsh rumble coming from inside.
- the blister on my foot, the sweat in the crease of my elbows. there are no more free bikes to rent, so i walk everywhere. i don't mind except that last week it was in the high 80s and low 90s.
- allan asleep at his computer in the college library. he stations himself here to avoid our overly warm house and to steal the occasional nap. i'm afraid one day he'll wake up to find his stuff stolen.
- the cheerio that was in the shower drain in the downstairs bathroom. the house we're at was left in a slovenly state. i didn't see this cheerio, but i wish i had.
maybe i'll swipe lumbs' fancy pants camera one day and snap these for you.
Monday, June 29, 2009
whatchyo name is
ugh, y'all suck for never posting. you're lucky i'm feeling generous. my b.i. (see earlier post for translation) and i were wasting time between classes today and he introduced me to this:
enjoy! and now, furreal, share your feelings.
Monday, June 22, 2009
inaugurating, congregating, violating
hello friends. i miss you all.
wish you could've eaten tacos at dolores park with me and my summertime crew today. it was beautiful, messy, delicious, and full of dogs both small and gigantic (pony size, if you will). we were nearly mauled 4 times by said dogs with names such as iggy, joshua, and winifred. dogs should not have human names, in my opinion. that is the point when i think celebrities should go up to the dog owners and re-name them "apple" or "pilot inspector", or better still, "superfreak".
skool-wise: i was oriented at the summer institute today, although i am much bigger fan of being (dis)oriented, and the graduate track students seem okay overall. i am already one of two bad students (the other is my b.i., my "bad influence") who shows up late, sits in the back, and talks during lecture. perhaps the lecture-style tricks me into thinking that the rows of people in front of me must somehow make me less visible to whomever is up there asking us about our "expectations" and our proposed "end product". i solemnly swear that when nayan shows up i will not do any of that.
in other news, i brought a living thing into my humble abode. it is an orchid, it is lovely, i hope it remains so. i doubts it, but stay strong, young thing.
now, you're turn.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)