In this post, we are going to take a hard left turn. The main target audience are the softies. Those who have been crushed through life, probably mainly through a long series of trauma while growing up followed with toxic friendships / romantic connections. Those with the strongest sense of empathy. Those who often feel injured and bleeding. Those who feel an uneasy sensation of gloom in their chest frequently. Those who have tried 101 ways of meditation and nothing worked sustainably for them and the feelings came back everytime. Those who had one of those breakups that trapped them for years. Those who are softened so much that their heart feels like overcooked noodles. At some point, I used to be one of you. Arguably, I still am.
This post is not your cure. I assure you that much. But it aims to amuse you. That is all there is to it; Entertainment.
All we are going to do is to review two art pieces. Simple and efficient.
You may disagree that those pieces are art, and that’s okay. The truth is, I wouldn’t care. <3
Part I) “Advanced Gaslighting Finals”
There is one or few stages in the life of many during which they are unsure of who they are, unsure of their worth and value, terrified of judgement, wondering what others think of them, yearn to be accepted, fantasize to fit in, wanna feel like they belong, wanna be somebody.
If they’re lucky enough, and sometimes they need to be tactful to get lucky enough, they will make the right connections, bond with friends, feel validated, not feel misunderstood. For some, they find romantic and/or sexual relationship(s). Those friendships and relationships become the source of their power, but they wouldn’t know it. They wouldn’t realize how much the lack of those connections would trouble the foundation of their existence. For some, their legal family plays that role.
Then later in life, their romantic partner or intimate friends changes, or their interest changes, what they want changes, who they want changes, how they prioritize their partner changes. Or they discover they they never knew their so-called close ones and they’re not perceived like they thought they were. Sometimes, an accident takes those close ones away from them. Sometimes, they learn that their friends didn’t care about them like they thought they did. Or they learn something about themselves that they cannot digest without a lot of pain. Or they immigrate (domestically or internationally) somewhere without connections. Any event of such kind could shatter the stability of their life for years. What they didn’t know was the extent of which their definition was tied to the people whom they lost – until they lost them.
The unlucky ones who never had those connections to begin with, in young ages, they learn to endorse loneliness, channel inwardly, and cut the cords from their needs. There are two common consequences with that approach. The first is to grow stronger, not be afraid of scary careers like technology/engineering/science, and generally not care much about what people think, not because they’re secure, but because they’ve learned to disconnect/disassociate/compartmentalize. The second is to become emotion-dead. The difference between being emotion dead and motion less, as I made them up, is that being emotion-less is like a tree that once existed and now it is gone and nothing is left, but being emotion-dead is like a tree that has become somewhat snag. It exists, but there is not much life flowing through it. Due to this second consequence, people who go / driven to this path, later on their journey, start to feel something lacks in their life. Some dare to revive the tree from its winter stage to spring. This would be the beginning of a complicated journey that could at some point converge with the path of the lucky ones mentioned above.
Once your foundation crumbled, the path to rebuilding it begins. People, mostly depending on their background and circumstance, desperately look everywhere for a resolve. New friendships, new relationships, many forms of spirituality, therapy, new habits, new arts, relocations, you name it. Don’t be silly, I know not everyone who peruses any of those things come from the place of instability. But if you got defensive for a moment, it is telling something about you, and its for you to discover what that is …
In the period of this troubled state of anxiety and maybe depression, people soften up like overcooked noodles.
Take a look at the first piece and we’ll continue. Don’t forget to press the square button to maximize the screen.
When I first saw this one, I found it simultaneously funny and painful. It was gross. Disgusting. I was empathetic to the person who was trolled. They were being gaslighted hardcore. The entire piece felt like a finals project for an “Advanced Gaslighting” course. At the same time, everytime that I rewatched it, as soon as the call receiver says “?”, I burst into laughter.
Then I thought about it more. I found the audio on Spotify (https://open.spotify.com/track/46ZSVU7znMQyJFqEIrsd8l?si=f2fa209d0bdb4aa6) and put it on repeat. Not to hurt myself. But because there was something, or somethings, captivating about it. Some kind of sadness. Like Bo Burnham’s “Inside” vibes. It was musically appealing. The part that climaxes to “atto…rney general” was so good!! Beyond those, there was the opposing force of gaslighting and the reality that the caller cannot be, could not be, under any circumstances, genuine. It was absolutely implausible. They sent a message and instantly acted as if they’re being approached against their will: “Please leave me alone! We are sleeping”. It was 0 to 100 in one exchange. Ultra disingenuous. The delivery, on the other hand, sounded incredibly genuine. Their voice was so convincing. Their tone was compelling. It was paradoxically panic inducing. “What if I received a call like that?” if I ever put an ad on marketplace.
As I listened to it on repeat, a new thought emerged in my head. The caller was desperate. They were begging for rejecting someone. They were sad, lonely and depressed in their own way. They just wanted to tell someone that they didn’t want them. They wanted to be a dick. They needed to be a dick. Come to think of it, when was the last time you had a chance to tell someone to fuck off? When was the last time you had a chance to (mis)place your anger? To unleash the fury on another human? What if that kind of release, in a just manner, was a need that you ignored for so long, and those who deserved to receive your wrath are not there anymore. The world has been cruel to you, and you didn’t get to tell them to back off, to get lost, to go fuck themselves. In their fucking face. When was the last time that someone was the “bigger person” for you? What if you could be the caller, not the receiver? Would you do it? No, of course you won’t. The sense of empathy, the fact that you could be hurting them would stop/haunt you. The whole experience could have been excruciating to the receiver. We are softies after all in this post, aren’t we? But we are also warriors. More like “Warriors in Tears”. Listen to it and this time be the caller. What if the receiver of the call had no feeling? What if the receivers were just AI agents? Be a dick. Go at them. Be mean to them. They can be a symbol of all that have been hurting you all long. At this point on my thought chain, the song started to become less panic inducing and more comforting. More calming. This time, I am the asshole. I liked the release. This time, I was the gaslighter.
What was most comforting about it, you may wonder? I was not imagining to be the one receiving that call anymore… I was not the gaslightee.
Part II) “Eto Nado Sn’esti” – Russian for “Must be Demolished”
Unlike the first piece, this time, I am not going to show you the artwork before talking about it.
In this piece, the artist captures a few sentiments simultaneously and put them artistically together in a 25 second video.
- Imagine you’ve been called someone you are not all your life. And you fucking hate it. You’ve had enough of it. You’re sick and tired of being called something or someone you are not. But you’ve been defenseless all along. You never dared to talk back. Never dared to tell them no. To say it to their face that they are wrong.
- Imagine that you are cute as fuck, a typical violent personality does not fit your face, your body, your voice. You never believed you’re capable of violence, and even if you were, no one would have take you serious.
- Imagine, after all this time, eventually, something has changed inside you. You have become furious. You want to rebel. You want to take on the world. They’re all full of shit.
- Something’s remarkably different this time. Your blood is boiling. But you look calm. You realize that you have become an irony of the softest voice in the world, combined with the ultimate magnitude of brutality. A juxtaposition, a contradiction. A manifestation of a generational shift placed inside of the most innocent doll.
- In the face of public discount and disbelief, you declare yourself as “brutalism“.
- Now put all that in the language of architecture: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brutalist_architecture
Before you watch the second piece, re-read the title of part 2. Don’t forget to press the maximize button.
I wonder if you identified all those 6 elements. I’ll never know. And that’s okay, my lovelies.
Take two steps:
- Tell them who you are not: “I’m not eto nado sn’esti”
- Tell them who you are: “I’m brutalism!”
Fuck it. Go to a range. Shoot a gun. For once be the one with a gun in their hand. Just fucking do it!
Raven, June 2024