WRITTEN IN STONE: AN ARCHITECT DEFINES THE CLINTONS

12=30=02 | Mia T

[Mia T]

WRITTEN IN STONE: AN ARCHITECT DEFINES THE CLINTONS

by Mia T, 12-30-02

If mutability of meaning was necessary for the survival of the clintons--their survival hinged ultimately on the deconstruction of words and laws--it is more than a little ironic, and a manifestation of the special sway and shortsightedness of the pathologic ego, that clinton's monument to himself will necessarily define the clintons with the permanance of great inviolate places of iconic architecture.

While a huckster removes meaning from institutions --the wife picked up where the husband left off--an architect encodes meaning in buildings. James S. Polshek, the architect with the dubious distinction of having been commissioned to build the William J. Clinton Presidential Center in Little Rock, Arkansas, believes that a successful architectural solution must necessarily be rooted in relevance.

Just as Polshek's buildings have physical layers, so too do they have layers of meaning. His Rose Center for Earth and Space, for example, is informed formally and programmatically by the historic architecture of a designated landmark even as it redefines itself, (often too self-consciously, in my view), in Star-Trekian terms. Reduced to its essence, the building is the nascent universe before the Big Bang, the promise of the undifferentiated cell in its mother's womb,

The "bridge to the 21^st century" was, perhaps, clinton's most delusional conceit, so it is not surprising that it would become clinton's self-referential metaphor of choice. His library was to be that bridge, if he had anything to say about it...

 

 

The architect is often the master of the inside joke, witness Robert Venturi's postmodern chairs. Venturi exploited--unabashedly and with abandon--the vocabulary of Las Vegas, its stage-set-as-reality and its roadside culture--bright, clashing, ugly and fake. The architect's inside joke is his hedge against the sycophancy that comes with patronage.

The flip side of the encoded meaning of the architect is the terrorist's decoding ot it. To bin Laden, the World Trade Center was Jewish capitalism encoded in urban space. If Polshek's vision of clinton's library is a bridge, the inside joke is that, at best, it is a bridge to nowhere.

More likely, it is a bridge to the 7^th century...or a doublewide to house clinton double-speak. Take your choice.

 

[Quix]

You are tooooo correct for comfort, certainly.

Nevertheless, it's better to be able to slow em down than to follow like totally incapacitated sheep.

Then there's Ghandi.

And Jesus.

Awesome principles involved.

I don't really see myself using human arms to protect myself. I could imagine a situation where I might to protect others less able to do so themselves.

[185JHP]

Do you doubt that She-Who-Wants-To-Be-Obeyed has already drafted some really nasty EOs? Unfortunately for her, Mia T, most FReepers, and some fervently praying Christians are on the case. "I exhort therefore that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made..."

[spectre]

"The LORD, our God will destroy them"..

Amen

sw

[OKSooner]

If Polshek's vision of clinton's library is a bridge, the inside joke is that, at best, it is a bridge to nowhere.

Mia, I can buy that interpretation, but from one who lives in these parts, (my home town is a little over a hunnerd miles upstream from this place, which is more fortuitous than living downstream in, say, the lower Mississippi which the Arkansas feeds into. What's this gonna do to the drinking water in New Orleans?)

It looks like just a big ol' hyperthyroid single-wide on the NASTY OLD ARKANSAS RIVER! It's always either at flood stage or almost empty. In the summer the earth around here is green and lush, but in winter the lower Arkansas river has got to be one of the grayest, most drab places on earth, permeated with foamy pollution from upstream farm erosion. Near the river, if there's no wind, there's always the smell of decaying bottom-feeders.

[Mia T]

no stable loft too foul,

no rear shanty too provisional,

no tenement room too small for his workroom

as these conditions imply low rental.

 

Thx for providing the contextual info. There goes the neighborhood.

Foul deeds will rise,

Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 2. 

[Mia T]

corrections/additions

WRITTEN IN STONE: AN ARCHITECT DEFINES THE CLINTONS

 

by Mia T, 12-30-02

 

If mutability of meaning was necessary for the survival of the clintons--their survival hinged ultimately on the deconstruction of words and laws--it is more than a little ironic, and a manifestation of the special sway and shortsightedness of the pathologic ego, that clinton's monument to himself will necessarily define the clintons with the permanance of great inviolate places of iconic architecture.

Whereas a huckster removes meaning from institutions --the wife picked up where the husband left off--an architect encodes meaning in buildings. James S. Polshek, the architect with the dubious distinction of having been commissioned to build the William J. Clinton Presidential Center in Little Rock, Arkansas, believes that a successful architectural solution must necessarily be rooted in relevance.

Just as Polshek's buildings have physical layers, so too do they have layers of meaning. His Rose Center for Earth and Space, for example, is informed formally and programmatically by the historic architecture of a designated landmark even as it redefines itself, (often too self-consciously, in my view), in Star-Trekian terms. Reduced to its essence, the building is the nascent universe before the Big Bang, the promise of the undifferentiated cell in its mother's womb,

The "bridge to the 21^st century" was, perhaps, clinton's most delusional conceit, so it is not surprising that it would become clinton's self-referential metaphor of choice. His library was to be that bridge, if he had anything to say about it...

 

The architect is often the master of the inside joke, witness Robert Venturi's postmodern chairs. Venturi exploited--unabashedly and with abandon--the vocabulary of Las Vegas, its stage-set-as-reality and its roadside culture--bright, clashing, ugly and fake. The architect's inside joke is his hedge against the sycophancy that comes with patronage.

The flip side of the encoded meaning of the architect is the terrorist's decoding of it. To bin Laden, the World Trade Center was Jewish capitalism encoded in urban space. If Polshek's vision of clinton's library is a bridge, the inside joke is that, at best, it is a bridge to nowhere.

More likely, it is a bridge to the 7^th century...or a doublewide to house clinton double-speak. Take your choice.

copyright Mia T 2002

[Mia T]

[Mia T]

bump!

[OKSooner]

Mia, your talent, literacy and eloquence are a blessing to those of us who know you in cyberspace. Best wishes to you and yours for a wonderful new year.

[Mia T]

"My client had nothing to do with the low-rent, trailer-park trash politicians who infested our country for the past eight years."

--Michael Rosen, lawyer for Thomas Gambino, son of late Mafia boss Carlo Gambino

New York Post via The Wall Street Journal

(Michael Rosen was understandably eager to distance his client, a convicted loan shark, from the clintons. Another Thomas Gambino reportedly paid $50,000 to roger clinton in an unsuccessful effort to get a pardon for his father, Rosario Gambino.),

WRITTEN IN STONE: AN ARCHITECT DEFINES THE CLINTONS

Democrat Debacle of '02

Q ERTY8

doublewide

BUMP!

[Mia T]

 

 

 

The only way they can win is to convince people that we're space aliens.

--bill clinton

 

 

 

 

 

June 9, 1999

 

Peggy Noonan's excellent piece in yesterday's Wall Street Journal is really the story of the death of democracy. At its core it is the description of the human double helix gone terribly awry, of a denatured protein grotesquely twisted, of two mutant, tangled strands of DNA, the basest imaginable of base pairs linked permanently, as firmly as guanine to cytosine, bill inexorably to hillary and conversely, doing what they do best, and doing it relentlessly.

 

Killing.

Killing insidiously.

Killing as they pose and pander and feel our pain.

 

My only complaint is with Peggy Noonan's title.

The Mad Boomer, doesn't begin to capture candidate clinton considered separately or even taken as the self-anointed "twofer," permanently conjoined at that cavity conspicuously empty except for ego, that place where brain and soul and guts and heart normally reside.

 

This is not to say that she -- that they -- are not both quite mad and of that self-indulgent, arrogantly, ignorantly solipsistic age sandwiched flatly between yesterday's innocence and tomorrow's insouciance. Rather, it is that their madness and their boomerism don't even begin to explain their noxious influence: The cloying, internally inconsistent clinton calculus. The unspoken clinton threats. They permeate the atmosphere like a coiling miasma, choking off all freedom.

 

Even in New York.

Especially in New York.

When she wrote "The New Colossus," Emma Lazarus hardly had in mind this pair of mutant, deadly, twisted aliens.

 

So forget Arkansas-Illinois carpetbaggery and standard issue muckraking. The clintons are aliens of quite another sort. They are extrinsic, not of this world. They are inhuman. They are dehumanizing.

 

You may recall that the first act of this story of two degenerates maintained by iterating idiots, farce of farce ad infinitum, was generated quite by accident by iterated AlGoreRhythm, who, it should be noted, is now himself the object of iterated calculation by said degenerates who want iteration 2004 all for themselves.

 

And thus the odd bit of bloody Gore in Act II: The ugly sight of a corrupt, bottom-heavy hillary self-impaled on the horns of a Treason-Dilemma- masquerading-as-a-Third-Term-Dilemma-masquerading-as-a-Senate-stampede, for example, or bill's recent unsolicited, underwhelming Times interview on the Gore candidacy.

 

Act I was called "The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover." Ostensibly the tale of the wife of a bloodthirsty crime boss who finds romance with a bland bookseller between courses at her husband's restaurant, it was in fact the Thyestean and moveable -- yet unmoving -- feast of hillary clinton at her husband's sham restitution. (Note the reciprocity. The sham restitution in Act II is all hillary's.)

 

Food, color coding, sex, murder, torture and cannibalism were the exotic (if mostly horizontal) fare in this beautifully filmed but brutally uncompromising modern memoir which passed as ancient fable about nouveau riche rapacity.

Not for the faint at heart, Purple Hearts or queazy stomachs, this depiction of the gross debasement of America was heavily peppered with irony and dark humor throughout.

 

Although she baked no cookies, didn't do illicit land or cattle d eals and stood by no man, hillary clinton starred in the triple role of the Cook, the Thief and his Wife. Her lover was played at once vaporously and in workmanlike fashion by the ghost of Eleanor Roosevelt, with Janet Reno, between her stints rendering intermittent injustice for the Husband, as the reliable stand-in. Sidney Blumenthal was the stand-in for the Cook and Craig Livingstone the stand-in for the Thief. The last-minute addition of Christopher Hitchens as the snitch was a stroke of absolute genius notwithstanding its cerebral accident, its predictable-if-perfect pitch and its facile alliteration.

 

Although Act I had no rating, the new clinton soccer-mom directive will require a photo ID for any viewer without independent proof of illegal alien DNC or DNA sequencing.

 

 

In Act II, rabid anti-clinton voters, roughly 33% of the U.S. populace according to as-yet-unpodded pollsters, become increasingly aware that they are disappearing in droves and being replaced by alien pod replicas which have their physical attributes but lack all anti-clinton affect.

 

If Act I was a thinly veiled allegory about naked clintonism, then Act II is a parable about the plan for world domination by the Establishment, aged hippies in pinstripes all, with their infantile, solipsistic world view amazingly untouched by time.

INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS

 

 

  It is natural for man to indulge in the illusions of hope.

We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth,

and listen to the song of that siren

till she transforms us into beasts.

Is this the part of wise men,

engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty?

Are we disposed to be the number of those

who, having eyes, see not,

and having ears, hear not,

the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation?

For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost,

I am willing to know the whole truth;

to know the worst, and to provide for it.

-----------------Patrick Henry

In a dark time, the eye begins to see.

----------------- Theodore Roethke

[Mia T]

hyperthyroid single-wide on the NASTY OLD ARKANSAS RIVER!

Of course, you are right about the single-wide proportions. I was taking poetic licence. ;)

The site looks so uninviting -- barren and parched.

Your description of the river brings to mind a certain Hollywood folly--smell-o-vision. I can imagine a mephitic clintonian stench rising up from the river right on cue and permeating the LIE-brary like a coiling miasma, causing a collective nausea that is 10 years too late.

[OKSooner]

I suppose a double-wide WOULD be more Presidential, in a Hot Springs sort of way. Probably more anatomically correct as well...

[Mia T]

The Presidential

It's time for your dreams to come true

 

Holiday Rambler - Presidential Fifth Wheel Trailer

Build your own 2003 Fifth Wheel Trailer by selecting your floor plan and options

and we'll show you the MSRP (manufacturer's suggested retail price) on the ...

 

[Mia T]

Technically, the LIE-brary is deceptively doublewide, much like the clintons, themselves.

Note the bump-outs. The LIE-brary is doublewide at the bump-outs.

[OKSooner]

Indeed it is, Mia, just as it says "Presidential", in a self-defining way.

Emperor's new trailer house?

[Mia T]

 

 

 

68 rms riv view

NY househunting for AR felons

 

 

by Mia T

 

 

 

 

In my view, "Newgate" would be the perfect home for the clintons.

Erected in rural country ("pleasant, airy, and salubrious," as Thomas Eddy called the site in his 1801 book), Newgate was located about two miles above City Hall in what is now Greenwich Village. (Selling point: Hillary-as-Giuliani-irritant is inversely proportional to distance of clinton abode from City Hall.) Construction was begun in the summer of 1796 and finished in late 1797.

 

On four acres overlooking the Hudson River, the Doric-style building is of two stories with a cupola, surrounded by a stone wall ranging from 14 to 23 feet high. It contains 54 12-by-18-foot rooms designed for eight persons each; there are also 14 single rooms, eight feet by six feet and 14-foot high, with windows eight feet from the floor, for a total capacity of 446 occupants. A large room for a chapel was set aside, as were living quarters for the keeper and his family. Another two-story building of brick, 200 feet long by 20 feet wide, contains the work-shops. There is also a garden "in excellent order," as Eddy wrote. The entire cost of the grounds, buildings, and a wharf on the river-front was originally $208,846. The first 'residents' arrived Nov.28, 1797.

 

 

Caveat emptor!

The clintons would be wrong to automatically equate the creepingly leftist location and incipiently leftist penal code of New York's first state prison with suitability.

Although Newgate was the embodiment of a new, "more enlightened" penal code--prior to Newgate, 16 crimes were punishable by death in New York, including murder, rape, robbery, treason, burglary, the taking of goods from a church, forgery and counterfeiting--it must be emphasized that treason and murder were retained as capital offenses as were all other felonies, if committed a second time.

Truth-in-advertising compels me to disclose that Newgate no longer exists. But this small detail should pose absolutely no problem for the clintons and their promiscuous campaigns, all of which being, after all, mock documentaries about non-entities, the paradoxical personification of nothingness.

 

[ErnBatavia]

Love those early morning wakeup bumps!

[Mamzelle]

Suggest "Dictatrix"...? I like to call her "Commissar." "Herr General Hillary" does the job, too.

[Mamzelle]

Very nice
essay on the political implications of aesthetics. I liked best the reference to a double-wide, though the picture looks like a single-wide bridge to nowhere...