RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.
Showing posts with label æsthetics talk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label æsthetics talk. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 16

SONG OF THE DAY: I Got Style


You can inherit wealth, but not style. Style comes from culture, often enough separated from wealth these days, and to be honest, culture can’t ever be owned because it’s literal “culture” that ferments within the hearts and minds of folks practicing it. The issue with how “western culture” has developed from English colonialism is that those with wealth co-opt style by purchasing it, and in fact, any of us growing in this “western culture” are encouraged to purchase new identities as often as possible. But this also dilutes the actual culture, and in fact fucks it all up, cheapens it by attaching wealth to it rather than practice. (Practice is always worth more than wealth.) So western culture, which waves the flag of the great melting pot of cultures, also is just as much a consumption of all other cultures at this point as well. It’s like a buffet of culture, with the blandest, least spicy version of every culture, under one big heat lamp, and that’s supposed to be great. I was thinking on this earlier today as I conversed with a young creative cousin about AAVE and a meme I saw about how use of the habitual be was common in both West African and Gaelic languages, and kids shown a picture of Cookie Monster sick with Elmo eating some cookies got asked “Who be eating cookies?” and black kids knew to answer Cookie Monster while white kids answered Elmo. But if the kids were asked “Who is eating cookies?” all the kids knew the difference and answered Elmo, thus bad English actually had more depth and nuance.
Anyways, I’m a first generation college student, and I learned a lot, and was horribly embarrassed about how I was when I first went off to there. But over time, I’ve realized all my style came from before college and if anything I’ve had to make sure I didn’t learn all the wrong shit while learning all those things to get that expensive ass piece of paper that says I was highly educated. I always try to remind myself, as Jerry Clower said (whom my dad played often), to not get educated beyond my intelligence.

Friday, May 8

SONG OF THE DAY: Mawwal



I’ll be honest… really hoping that in the next decade of my life I move far deeper into cultivating an Omar Souleyman-level æsthetic. Shit, he’s only about 8 years older than me, and has been a singer and farmer most his adult life, having released over 500 albums under his name, many of which are just ones he made at weddings and gave to the married couple, but then got bootlegged and sold at music kiosks throughout the Arabian Peninsula. His rise in international notoriety has coincided with him living in exile in Turkey since 2011 as his native Syria has been in a state of conflict, specifically his home of Tell Tamer aka Tal Tamr aka “the hill of dates”. I almost bought 11 lbs of dates on ebay in the middle of the night the other evening, because fuck man, dates are some wonderful shit, especially when you haven’t eaten all day, whether fasting or by accident, and you pop one in your mouth and it’s an explosion of natural sweetness. Globalism as a means for corporate sterilization of the Earth, where everybody anywhere can eat a fucking piece of shit Big Mac, that’s some gross shit. But the ability to appreciate things outside your local microcosmic existence, for me as a rural southerner by birth, so that I can love on some dates and listen to Omar Souleyman, I appreciate that at least. But the globalism of the powerful is about business, not culture, and that’s why you got dumbasses out here being engineered by the interent to protest for re-opening normal ass basic ass boring as fuck businesses and acting like that’s an act of freedom or liberation. Americans are so goddamned lost. We buy iPhone cases at kiosks in nearly abandoned malls as opposed to wedding singer mixtapes at kiosks in open air clusterfucks of humanity booming with life (and business). Business without culture will always die, and the further we get into our culture of America just being consuming shit, the easier it will be for it all to just turn into rubble. Fuck it. I can’t wait to stack rubble into a mixtape kiosk, tarp stretched over top for shade, nice pallet table, my overstock limited but stored in three milk crates easily hauled on my old Corolla chassis pulled by goats. Shit’s gonna be dope. I hope to have really nice chrome wheels on my goat-pulled Corolla chassis wagon too. The future’s gonna be great, despite what anybody tries to make you worry. You just gotta envision that good shit.