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"The glorification of splendid underdogs is nothing other than the glorification of the splendid system that makes them so."

Theodor Adorno. Minima Moralia

From the moment I began reading Modelland, I found myself unable to adequately explain what it was like. This continued through all 600 or s

"It’s all there in Modelland, and it’s all off.

A type of art I love is that of ‘Outsider Art’. My favourite art museum is that of the American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore, which I’ve been to a few times and is dedicated to this category. It’s a broad and loose category, one that carries certain connotations, not all of them innately positive: Outsider Art is art by the self-taught and untrained, those who exist often ‘outside’ the world of ‘traditional’ art. Depending on how thin you slice the meaning of Outsider Art, it could be anyone who doesn’t have an art degree; At that level, the term loses all meaning.

Yet as judgemental and uncertain as ‘Outsider Art’ can be as a term, it still has a certain value for describing works like Modelland. Art by someone who does not know the conventions of her medium, art which is created without knowledge of what others would call standard. As much as creators frequently ignore the ‘rules’ of their medium, they tend to be aware of them. Subversion becomes a conscious process, and weirdness tamed by intention."

#contrast with what foster wallace said about writers who use too much form #instead of telling a story

I guess thatss what makes an example of body horror, good: the anxiety beneath the metaphor. And I guess thats why the bad writing of a model does such a very good job at it. Who else would be as anxious about the body as someone who make a living out of it?

Curiosity got the best of me, and decided to search what was that Tyra Banks novel about and... She really should write horror. I guess models have a keen sense of what constitutes as body horror.

An older, unrecognizable person was staring at Tookie. It had a boil growing on its nose, letting out a smoke that smelled of rotten eggs and animal droppings. Much of its hair had fallen out in clumps, and many of the hanging strands had fused together into what looked like chunks of petrified wood. Its eyes were bruised, swollen nearly shut, and its ears were swollen into what looked like bulbs of cauliflower.

[…]

Everyone in the room screamed, their faces melting and warping just like Tookie’s was.

Piper’s skin was so raw it was transparent. Her blood was visible, pumping wildly through her face. She resembled a skeleton with muscles and veins, with a thin layer of clear plastic keeping it all together.

Dylan’s ponytails had completely fallen out and she was cradling them in her arms. Her nose had become detached from her face and was sitting on top of the bed of hair. Shiraz’s grapefruit-sized eyes bulged and bulged like they were about to pop out of her head. The spot where the ruby had been on Kamalini’s SMIZE was now a gaping hole four inches wide, exposing her brain. Angelîka’s ZipZap head injury had split open wide from the top of her head to the base of her neck. When she screamed, her exposed vocal cords, which lay in a spaghetti-like tangle at her throat, vibrated.

“My heads hurt so much!” both sides of Angelîka cried. Even Zarpessa and Chaste looked like mutants, their noses falling off and their lips turning into slugs.

Pg 189-192

trailcams

source

angelicdewdrop

Mesmerizing Gaze

May 28, 2024: Chihuahua, Mexico Young Indigenous Raramuri people dance during a sacred Yumari ceremony to ask for rain and good crops Photograph: Eduardo Verdugo/AP

#mexico mention