Stab Somebody In The Back

12 Sep

Stop writing self-interviews. It’s self-celebratory in the guise of modesty. You sit there at your semi-improvised writing table and after some initial struggle you get into it. You suddenly feel enthusiastic, you see a piece taking form in your mind. You can imagine how nice it will be to collaborate with those favorites of yours that you were, just a few moments ago, a bit worried to meet because your proposal might be understood as vague. But what is your proposal? Really what is it? And you say “I’m interested in”, but what do you mean you are interested? I’m also interested, like in waterskiing and dance duets and facial expression, but what have you asked yourself? Most choreographers are more interested in “or something like that” than in anything else. More interested in “you know what I mean” and “I don’t know, but…” and you are okay cause everyone nods understandingly. Self-interview is the lazy man’s way out of self-scrutiny, you don’t have to do anything to yourself whilst doing them, they carry no consequences, but make you feel like a good person afterwards. There is something utterly qualm about self-interviews, a tone of well-meaning yet sexually repressed Christianity.

The catholic self-interview is disgusting but at least it can opt for forgiveness. Confessional and chatty, obviously not coming to a point, and feeling extremely good with itself. And by the way why should you write it at all when there are really nice interviews on the internet that you can copy and paste from.
It is the protestant self-interview that really sucks, and OMG it sucks with its self-righteous tone of I’m exposing the truth and, you have no idea how painful it is for me to lower my defenses and say those things. Force them out of myself like some dogmatic madman in a Dan Brown novel. Stop it. You are such a hypocrite, self-interviews are the worst kind of autopoiesis, a kind of redundant psychoanalysis that produces trauma rather than the other get you going. Self-interview would be the title of the book Lacanians would have written, had they not been so occupied with annihilating Anti-Oedipus. Justify your works with whatever theory you don’t know, but doing it through self-interview, that’s like eating muesli pretending it’s a bloody beef, having yogi tea imagining it to be glass of gasoline. Self-interview is like a wooden sword, the making of an epic movie, an image of armed struggle, where is your machine gun.

Self-interview is like taking prisoners, and only as many as you can handle. We don’t take prisoners and if we do we take so many that positions become catastrophic. Self-interview is the pleasure of imagining how it would be to inflict physical pain oo oneself. You have a job, stab somebody in the back.

Self-interview is monotheism for balanced liberals, auto-realization for artists that suffer in the studio, for those who celebrate the painful in art, that shy away from confrontation and believe in civilization. Self-interviews are all about becoming comprehensible and elaborating your work as a sympathetic one-ness, serving programmers (they love one-thing concepts and coherence). It is not enough to say “but I’m working against coherence”, no way. Vague is not an option. Self-interview is for people that think caffe latte a little bit special and artist studio an autonomous zone. For those who with a considerate tone state “-Well, there is also day tomorrow”. Stop it, self-interviews are time wasting dialogue, the equalization of anything, the end of aggression. The production of causality. Go to war, fuck being considered. Self-interview is the opposite of hate, it’s the negation of tears. Self-interviews don’t clean your eyes, they make you see the same. Self-interviews no way, hit somebody in the face.

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