Life & Art & Abuse & Boycott

I love documentaries, and I love Auntie Beeb.

I quite like Victoria Coren Mitchell. I like her in Only Connect, and when I spotted How to Be Bohemian, I watched the three parts of this documentary.

First, it was very interesting, and I always like to learn new things.

Then, in the second part, when Mrs Coren Mitchell talked about Eric Gill (a man I'd never heard of until that moment - because I'm still not omniscient or plugged into some Akashic Records), I wanted to give her a hug and thank her for no longer wanting to see some of his art after learning that he'd abused his young daughter and that he'd used her to inspire him.

Apparently, Eric Gill couldn't keep his equipment in his trousers (so to speak, since it seems that he took to wearing dresses and robes - to be always ready??). He screwed many, and on his list, his own sister can be found.

All right. I'm not going to be your average prude, but I can't help imagining a man manipulating his sibling into having sex with him rather than having her agreeing to fuck her brother. But, let's try to be hugely tolerant, and let's say two consenting adults had some fun together. Not our business. Fine.

But... according to the man himself, if his diary's to be believed, he raped at least two of his daughters. There is no possible way we, as humans, can hear that and not wish to send a creature like Gill into complete oblivion (if I could go Egyptian on the guy and erase him from History, I'd be tempted).

But then, Mrs Coren Mitchell interviewed Fiona MacCarthy, a biographer of Gill, and then I realized that when it comes to standing by the victims, we're not out of the wood.

Mrs Coren Mitchell asked if we should know the background of a work of art. If the life of the "artist" goes into illegality, shouldn't we stop the person? Being an artist doesn't give anyone a licence to abuse or hurt anyone else (artists can drink, smoke, and snort powder as much as they want; I don't care - as long as they don't try to force me to join or attempt to break my favourite vase).

So, here, we're talking about a man who raped his own children. Even if he had a brain tumour that could explain his vagrant prick, he was an abusive manipulator and a sex predator in my book.

And here comes the immunity card for him: he's an artist. <insert fake gasp here>

When asked if the real life and the art should be viewed as separate, Mrs MacCarthy made me cringe.

     Fiona MacCarthy: I can separate them. And I think that it's the kind of dichotomy in human behaviour that somebody who can behave so reprehensibly can produce these works of supreme art.      

     Victoria Coren Mitchell: Something like the Girl in Bath though, the images he made of his daughter, those erotic images of a naked child. I'm afraid it makes me want to get in a time machine and kneecap him [that's the part that made me want to hug her! I'd lend her a hand!]. Do you find those images beautiful?

       FMC: I still find them beautiful, yes. And if he was a less good artist, I don't think I would bother with him. I don't think that I would be at all concerned with his sexual life or at all interested in it. I think that’s the testing thing. It's this curious tension that produces the rather particular beauty of those images, and I think, perhaps, even that one understands them more deeply by knowing the history.

    VCM: But you might say, well, knowing that he abused his children in this way; yes, one understands better what he was doing in that drawing, and in understanding it, one wants to reject it, no?

     FMC: Well, I wouldn't say that, you see. I think that people who try to police works of art according to what they believe to be the political views or the sexual behaviour of the artist, then they rule out an awful lot of great art. What about Wagner? Do you switch off Wagner because you disapprove of his anti-Semitic views?

       VCM: Yes!

       FMC: You do!? You switch him off!

       VCM: Yeah, I realize that strikes you as terribly philistine…

       FMC: Yes!

      VCM: And I do know it's complicated, I love the poetry of Yeats; he was in his own weird way a sort of Nazi sympathizer. I know these things are complex, and it’s very hard to make an absolute rule, but when I look at those images of Gill’s young daughter, and I know that he abused her; I think it's not something I want to see again.

      FMC: Well, I think that this is a very, very narrow view of art, of society, and that one can’t be so dogmatic. One has to try and take it on board.

This is not victim-blaming, but when someone says, 'Oh, but that Artist is soooooooo good that I can ignore the fact that he (or she) [or it, for all I care] is skinning kittens alive for fun.', then that is deciding to not condemn the fellow biped for doing something bad because that biped is doing something else that you like.

It's simple enough, you put yourself in the shoes (or the paws) of the victim, and you think long and hard how you'd like the rest of the world to come to your rescue. Do you want the coppers to come and stop the abuse, or do you want an art critic or a fan to tell you to be proud of your abuser because he's suuuuuuuuuuuuuuch a grrrrrrreat Aaaaartist? Go on, answer that one.

No amount of genius justifies throwing a victim under the "art" bus.

That's true for Gill. That's true for any abuser who happens to be an artist, like that so-called writer-actor-director who was accused by his step-daughter (the girl is toast in that art world, and the man's still working and getting trophies).

Mind you, that's not limited to art. Have some money (a few billions should work), and you can get away with abusing, say, your step-daughter - the judge will only order you to serve four months - two if you're a nice bloke, coz you lead a "productive life", and your family's important for the community.

When I go shopping, it can take me time because I check that I'm not going to give money to companies that have despicable business habits and/or nasty bosses.

I do the same with artists. I've got a blacklist.

There are enough decent geniuses to entertain us (I didn't know Gill before I watched that documentary, but when I saw his art... I didn't feel a thing. To me, he's in the "nothing to write about" category, and now that I know what he did to his children, I'll ignore anything by him. Not because I'm a philistine - I'm not, but because he's not that good, and as a man, which is inseparable from the artist, he was a monster).

I'll still enjoy the works of any drunkard, drug addict, libertine, but pardon me, I'll draw the line at rapist... and no amount of justification will make me agree with you if you want to keep enjoying the works of any biped guilty of that crime.

That's not a "very, very narrow view of art, of society", that's the position of a survivor who knows what it's like to be in the claws of a monster with the rest of the world ignoring your plight. So gimme another tune, Cupcake, and behave like a decent human being and shun the monsters - quite often, they're overpriced brats who are selling you some invisible cloth. The sooner you see that the king is naked, that their art is empty, and that you're standing by a plonker who's dragging you into the abuse, the better.

*curtseys, & hops off the soapbox*

Case in Point: That Honesty Thingy

All right, this post's probably going to drip with sarcasm (a lot more than here). And there may be a few swearwords coz I'm exhausted and furious (and also why not?!)

So, we're supposed to trust bankers 'because there's a confidentiality clause in all contracts'. But of course! And they never, ever play Money Russian roulette with our hard-won cash. Nope. Never. And their websites are so tight that they're never, ever hacked by nasty people. Nope. Never. And they're all soooooo honest that they never, ever discuss the issue a customer can have just loud enough for everyone in the lobby to know that Mr X or Mrs Z are currently in a bit of a jam. Nope. Never.

If people bipeds were honest, we wouldn't have so many fishwrappers putting their noses in the lives of so many people (celebrities or not), because that need to gossip and blab would not exist, but... No... Bipeds need to open their big mouths and talk about things (whether they actually know anything on any topic or not).

It's got to be a mix of being naturally nosey and needing to feel important for one second.

I subscribed to quite a few newspapers' newsletters (probably too many because the state of the world has a slight tendency to make me growl - and wish to kick-start a few bipeds' brains with my favourite rolling pin), and just this morning, I got to read something that made my blood boil. Something that proves that most bipeds just cannot be trusted.

10:56AM: I get a 'News Alert' e-mail from The Washington Post about a possible terrorist attack in France, and in the summary included in the message, I read: 'A French security official says an attack and explosion at a gas factory in southeastern France has left one person dead. The official, who spoke on condition of anonymity because she wasn’t authorized to talk to the news media, said the dead person was found decapitated outside the entrance to the factory.'

When I clicked on the 'Read more' link, I was brought to an almost empty page. No more mention of the blabbing official.

12:41PM: I get the full newsletter from that newspaper. The first article's about that attack, but the official's unofficial statement is no longer mentioned (perhaps because more accurate and recent info have reached the journalists).

I'm very sorry (just being polite here), but the French government wasn't going to try to cover up a murder, and so the official isn't a kind of whistle-blower or whatever. We're talking about someone, who was sworn to secrecy, but who could not keep her mouth shut - be it to feel important for a moment or to deal with that urge to gossip, I don't care. That biped betrayed the trust of her fellow citizens, and of her boss - for a mention in the newspaper, which she cannot even enjoy since she was supposed to keep her bloody mouth shut.

Gossipmonger is a word that's American, but I must admit that I like it better than its British equivalent for once. Gossip/gossiper sounds like a disease, but the "-monger" part in the American form makes me think of an arrogant plonker that thinks it's got the right to talk about what the neighbours do.
That gossipmonger makes me picture someone in "Ye Olde Gossip Shoppe" trying to attract more nosey busybodies so they can chat about what the others are doing: 'Come here! Freeeeeesh gossip! Hot from the oven! I've seen nothing, but I'll tell you everything! I've got no right to judge my neighbours, but I'll tell you what kind of sinners they are according to my own perfect (and frankly, the only possible ones) values! Freeeeeeeesh gossip! For free!'

Sheesh.

Mind your business, Cupcake, and do something useful.

Oh, and when you're bound to secrecy, have a bit of respect for your own word and keep your fucking mouth shut...

And a sodding banker is expecting me to trust him?

*snorts*

Few bipeds can be trusted, and they need to be punished when they commit a betrayal (and they probably need to grow up).

Quod erat demonstrandum.

Spelling Deontology and Honesty

I find it rather arrogant that professionals tell me, 'Oh, but there's deontology. We're bound to secrecy, and you could sue us if we betrayed you. There's no need for a Confidentiality Agreement, you see.'

Yes, I see.

I see that if I were to be betrayed, I'd have to hire a solicitor to sue whoever had spilled the beans, and since the culprit would be working for a huge company with a gazillion of solicitors, I'd be - pardon my French - screwed.

I mean, we can't even trust solicitors (Chris Gossage and Judith Callegari anyone? I just can't forget about that betrayal).

And that's why Confidentiality Agreements/Non-Disclosure Agreements were invented, because if the deontology-bound biped that you were supposed to trust goes blabbing about your secrets, the signed agreement does take you to court, but the judge automatically rules in your favour. There's no escape for the traitor; he or she gets to give you money because he or she couldn't keep his or her mouth shut, and it's only fair that you get compensation for being stabbed in the back - and it's only fair to not have to fight in court and have to prove that the betrayal is having consequences on your activity.

If some bipeds were not such despicable creatures, yes, we could trust one another, but since it's obviously not the case, signed agreements are a must (sad, but true).

Needless to say, I won't work with people I don't know who ask me to trust them, but who offer no guarantee whatsoever (if you sign an NDA, and you do not blab, there's nothing to lose). 

Better safe than sorry, as my grandmother used to say.

Panem et... "musique"

The year, 2015.

First day of summer.

Beautiful weather.

And yet, I am going to growl (not because it's a Sunday, and it's usually the day I have time to do so).

Today's the Fête de la Musique, and some copper has AGAIN given permits to two bars to have both their live bands performing on the street, with sound systems, and as the day goes by, the bands are becoming louder.

I had a bit of hope earlier as Bar #2 installed their "stage" a bit late, and Bar #1 had first invited a band that wasn't too loud (the singer couldn't carry a tune to save his life, but that's a tradition with that bar's musical guests).

Now, I've got two bands competing for the attention of the sheeple.

I should probably take this as an opportunity to understand why the Romans were so fond of the circus, but my brain's melting through my ears because of the awful din that's being made outside (and I'd be more interested in a Voodoo dolls crash course right now).

I'm not the only one growling because their fun is making this day horrible and unpleasant, but since there are two bars making an awful lot of money selling food and beer to the sheeple, the ones who'd like to have some Mozart on their MP3 players will have to shut up and stand the noises whilst they last.

I'll have to stand it, but I'm going to call the coppers' headquarters first thing tomorrow in order to know why there were two permits. In Rome, at least, no one brought the circus to your flat if you wanted some quiet, and the first to tell me 'But it's just for a day and just a few hours.' gets to meet my rolling pin...

Wallpaper with Pattern Match Trick / Truc pour pose de papier peint avec raccord

I’ve just finished changing the wallpaper in my dining room, and I’m so happy with the trick I used that I decided to share it with the world.  Let’s imagine that you’ve found some wallpaper that you love, but… the awesome guy who created that beautiful design decided that the pattern would match every 50cm, and according to the calculator on the website where you’ve found the paper of your dreams, you’re going to need to buy approximately the whole store. First, do not trust the calculator. Grab some piece of paper, a pencil, and do a spot of maths. Honestly, if I’d worked the traditional way (pasting roll by roll), I’d have had to buy nine rolls instead of just five (and with the price tag on a roll, that does make a difference). I’m sharing this trick to help my fellow humans, but you’ll have to work on a couple of things yourself – and always pay attention to what you’re doing. First, maths. If your room’s already wallpapered, count how many lengths you’ve got on each wall (otherwise… more maths, my sweets!). I’ve got six lengths and a hair on my two widest walls; I’ve got a bow window, and the wall opposite the window has five lengths. Once I saw that, I bought five rolls; do the maths for your own room. Open all the rolls you’ve bought, find the matching patterns on them all in order to have the most efficient way to deal with them and number them with your pencil inside the roll; also add an arrow on the back of the paper to know which way you’re supposed to put the length on the wall (when you’ll be dead on your feet, that’ll be quite helpful!). Unroll all the rolls a bit and make sure that your patterns match on all of them. Cut the pieces that you can’t use (the longest piece I had to cut was 20cm long, and there was one roll where I didn’t have to cut anything). From that moment on, you can paste almost all your lengths. Extra trick 1: I live in an old building, and there are lengths of wood on all salient corners, which allowed me to paste the paper on the wall opposite the window without being bothered by the matching pattern on the wall next to it. That may be a good idea to get rid of a few matching pattern nightmares. Have a look at my “fantabulous” drawing to help you. When you’re done with the lengths you’ve pasted, you just have to work on the few lengths that remain (if you play poker with the rolls, you may not have too much to cut to reach the matching pattern again). Extra trick 2: unless your walls are dramatically worse than mine, just start pasting the first length against the vertical side. Extra trick 3: in all the videos I watched on the net, and on the advice sheet with each roll of paper, everybody says to cut a few extra centimetres up and down the length. One centimetre’s enough (unless your walls are wavy, but then you measure the highest point, and that’s where you cut). Extra trick 4: everybody talks about cutting the extra paper with a cutter, but scissors work nicely, too, even if you have to unpaste the length for a moment. Happy wallpapering!

Je viens tout juste de finir la tapisserie dans ma salle à manger et je suis tellement fière du truc que j’ai utilisé que j’ai décidé de le partager avec le reste du monde. Imaginons que vous avez trouvé le papier peint de vos rêves, mais… le brillant designer de cette petite merveille a collé un raccord de 50 cm et d’après le calculateur de rouleaux du site où vous avez trouvé la merveille, il va vous falloir acheter la boutique ou presque. Déjà, ne faites pas confiance au calculateur. Attrapez un bout de papier, un crayon et faites un peu de maths. Sérieusement, si j’avais fait les choses traditionnellement (un rouleau après l’autre), j’aurais dû acheter neuf rouleaux au lieu de cinq (et au prix du rouleau, ça fait une différence).  Je partage ce truc pour rendre service, mais il faut planifier deux, trois trucs et toujours faire attention. D’abord, les maths. Si votre pièce a déjà du papier peint, faites le compte des lés sur chaque mur (autrement, à vos machines à calculer, les enfants !). J’ai six lés et une poussière sur mes deux plus longs murs. J’ai une bow window, et le mur du fond a cinq lés. Après ce décompte, j’ai acheté cinq rouleaux. Faites les comptes pour votre pièce. Ouvrez-les tous, cherchez les raccords les plus proches pour avoir une séquence de pose et numérotez-les au crayon à l’intérieur du rouleau et mettez une flèche indiquant dans quel sens vous posez les motifs sur chaque rouleau (quand vous serez sur les rotules et ne saurez plus votre nom, ça vous sauvera la mise !). Déroulez un peu tous vos rouleaux et mettez les raccords au même niveau. Coupez les morceaux excédents (le plus long morceau que j’ai coupé mesurait vingt centimètres et sur un des rouleaux, je n’ai rien coupé du tout). À partir de ce moment-là, vous pouvez poser presque toutes vos longueurs de papier. Truc supplémentaire 1 : j’habite un vieil immeuble où il y a des baguettes sur tous les angles saillants, ce qui m’a permis de poser le papier sur le mur du fond sans m’occuper des motifs sur le mur qui le rejoint. Ça peut être une bonne idée pour vous faciliter la vie au niveau raccord. Jetez un œil à mon « super » dessin pour vous aider. Quand vous avez fini avec les lés que vous avez posés, vous n’avez plus qu’à travailler sur les quelques longueurs qui restent (en jouant à la belote avec vos rouleaux, vous ne devriez pas avoir trop de papier à couper pour être raccord avec le papier déjà posé). Truc supplémentaire 2 : sauf si vos murs sont cent fois pires que les miens, suivez simplement un bord vertical pour commencer à le poser. Truc supplémentaire 3 : toutes les vidéos de pose que j’ai regardées et les conseils sur les rouleaux vous disent de couper quelques centimètres de plus en haut et en bas. Un centimètre de plus suffit (sauf si vos murs ont le mal de mer, mais, là, vous coupez un centimètre de plus après avoir mesuré la plus grande longueur dont vous avez besoin). Truc supplémentaire 4 : tout le monde parle de couper l’excédent de papier au cutter ; les ciseaux ne sont pas mal non plus, même s’il faut décoller trente secondes. Bonne pose !