Book Late

“-What do you do with an e-mail with the following letters in the Subject field: “Urgent”?” “-What do you do? – – “-Exactly, you forget about it… for a long time, a really long time!” – – “-How do you react when the subject of an e-mail tells you the following: urgent, urgent?” “-I didn’t hear… / pause / exactly, at least until lunch you react on any kind of human contact by showing your teeth. If you still were human one could classify your behavior as seriously pissed off, a kind of Samuel L Jackson ’98 pissed if you know what I mean?”

“-Are you asking me about when you receive an e-mail with the subject: URGENT URGENT URGENT! – – You know what you do… or will do, and terra firma should just be happy it hasn’t happened cuz your rage would be devastating, – – so devastating that like the final episode of “Heroes” would be approx the intensity of a fart model Mademoiselle XXS.

A creature that responds to any kind of urgent, in whatever typeface, size or font, is either a curator/programmer or educated in Belgium. Don’t do it, it makes you a small person. If you answer an urgent mail you forever and automatically receive the newsletters from Olafur Eliason, Portikus and Performa with a personal greeting from Roselee. Any one person that sends an urgent mail has pronounced an absolute disinterest in anything at all, or at least in sex, group sex and orgy. Mr Urgent Mail is enthusiastic, positive but defensive and could say things like: “-For me, it’s important that a show has diversity, it’s important to give context and an entry point for the visitor.” Don’t answer the urgent mails, those that do transform into werewolves every full moon – – SVP – – if you only think about responding but decide not to, you might get away with a medium punishment – – a lifetime as performance artist with a passion [OMG] to cognitive behavioral therapy – – if you answer I tell you, you are stuck in causality. Doomed to action, dramaturgy and America. Urgent is an investment term, it’s another word for openness, i.e. an estimation of affordance, of investment. Urgent equals enthusiasm, and what do we think about that? Rot in Hell, you fat fuck!

FYI, Goldsmiths is not a good idea and anybody who use the word “urgency” in papers, talks, discussions, reference Homo Sacer and at the same time has a thing for ex-activists – – un-friend them, block them, erase them from your address book, pretend that the line is very bad, tell them that Carolee Schneemann is a great artist and spread rumors about that person preparing a show or book or interview series or anything with Martha Rosler, that… will be published by e-flux journal.

Burn your boats, and do it now! Visual cultures [in freakin pural] is as much garbage as anthropology is grace/…/ Oh, shit that was a fairly fuckin deep Freudian slip!

Anthropologists, at least after Vailala Madness, totally answer urgent mails, not even with a simple re: urgent, but they insert a new subject, a proper one, and I don’t mean like SUCK MY COCK. Somehow it’s weird to consider the idea that there are people calling themselves anthropologists. What do you do with an artist that announces an interest in anthropology, especially if the interest is empirical and sort of autopoietic. Well, maybe that department finally ran out of stock, you know the sort of performance artist that announces work like: not going indoors for a whole year, or – – Fuck me – – remain tied up with the boyfriend for an entire year without being allowed to touch each other. That is so embarrassing, it might create a system crash on wordpress. You know what, this blog post will not be available in China.

I’m interested in people and the formation of relations. Stop it, stop it, and please please please don’t do performances about your sexuality and your traumatized childhood. Fake it for gods sake, FAKE IT.

Stop anything that has to do with activation. Stop working with young people. Stop anything that has to do with posters. Renounce community art. Insist on closing the pedagogic dept during your show, even if it’s a group-show. You know what, you don’t need to pretend that you negotiate if you should or not do the that show in Dubai, just go there and leave your anthropology at home. Curiosity is not a good thing, for Chris sake stop making studio visits, don’t come to showings or some tiny ass performances in an artist run space. Stay home and read Max Stirner.

Subject: Travels – – five months before the show the mail drops in the mails box, with an endless tirade concerning how important it is to book flights in time. Look, do I know where I’m going the day after today, no I don’t, do I know anything about in five months. No, I so don’t, fine now I know… since you tell me I’m booking a flight for the so and that date in like another epoch. More importantly, who do you announce yourself as. “-If we can save a hundred euros, it really makes a difference…“ – – dude, fuck off! First of all, make your accounts, you are saving the wrong end. Get rid of the office, stop inviting Alain Platel, Isaac Julien or Woody Allen, and don’t think that I don’t know. Second, is that how you want to establish a relationship? – by booking flights in time. You are only interested if it’s booked five months in advance and economy economy economy class.

Friends of the family: Don’t visit festivals, shows, events, anything what so ever – – especially not boyfriends — that state things like: “-Oh but that’s very good cuz there is an RyanAir connection.” — Great, yeah essactly. Is that how much you dig your girlfriend – so much that you propose a visit with a lowfare flight and six hours busride to each airport and the flight – I forgot to mention – is at six forty-five. “-Oh, my love, it’s noproblem, I’ll get up at quarter past two and take the bus” – Good fuckin’ bye. But good cuz your partner will be so wasted and fucked up, wined up on Ibuprofen that your sex will be totally worthless and will fall asleep before you come. The whole weekend is a long waiting to go to the airport and again, totally the wrong timing, three twenty on Sunday afternoon.

Fuck Gatwick, Fuck Schönefeld, Double Fuck Charleroi, and whole orchestra fuck Beauvais.

If any of those destination pop up – CANCEL. And if this person is a friend, no he/she isn’t. – – If you still feel weird, send a mail to Frau Hundred-Euro-Makes-a-Difference and tell her your dog died, that your city was hit by a tornado, that you have to go to the dentist, anything. And I promise on my mother grave, if you lose some money I will cover your ass.

Parentheses: One more, how is it possible for a festival not to be able to wire money to my account. How, does it happen that some idiot in Spain needs me to send an official letter that the account in question is really mine, and it can’t be a PDF. This is great, and at the same time the same idiot has forgotten that I cancelled and didn’t show up for the panel on city interventions. – yes, this is true, seriously – back to cheap flights hell.

The moment you say yes to Luton your work just made it to the farmer’s league, the second shop, to the unemployment office, to an artist in residency, to artistic research. You are mediocre. Demand, Demand, Demand INDEPENDENCE.

“-Don’t be funny now, you know that’s impossible”, you say. Of course it’s fuckin’ impossible – independence what do you think – but check this out, it is more fuckin’ impossible to sit your ass down in a low price airline, with the autopoietic argument of “studying people”, and an urgent message.

Don’t do this to yourself, don’t lower the stakes to nothingness, don’t allow yourself to believe in what’s good for you. Don’t let them tell you how important it is for an artist’s career to associate with a production house. Get it, your gallerist wants to fuck you, your money and your super model girlfriend. You are better, cooler, sexier, groovier – – as long as you didn’t set foot in Städle – you are more evil, dark, fanatic because at least you don’t want to fuck your gallerist’s assistant, daughter, wife, brother, lover or balcony.

Be a fox, an urban fox. Betray all sides and book late.