tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21591684Tue, 10 Sep 2024 15:48:54 +0000http://okyrhoe.blogspot.com/noreply@blogger.com (okyrhoe)Blogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21591684.post-113838265254376302Fri, 27 Jan 2006 17:12:00 +00002008-08-28T15:20:24.774+03:00At the Els Hanappe Underground art gallery I stumbled upon Hito Steyerl's video piece November. Although not a great fan of martial arts movies, I was mystified by the mystique surrounding Bruce Lee, especially the popularity of his posters in cinema theaters (even when a karate film wasn't being screened) and even the tacky velour tapestry portraits on sale in Middle Eastern bazaars and corner http://okyrhoe.blogspot.com/2006/01/tao-of-bruce-lee.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (okyrhoe)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21591684.post-113838190212854189Fri, 27 Jan 2006 17:00:00 +00002008-08-28T15:02:17.266+03:00I was in my early teens when I first came across this line in a poem by Marge Piercy.I wrote it down in my notebook, along with other lines and phrases (rather than experiences) I was fond of collecting at the time.The poem - as a lament - did not signify anything to me then. It was simply this line, a commandment and commitment to the self, that I found myself drawn to.Song of the Fucked Duck http://okyrhoe.blogspot.com/2006/01/fantasy-unacted-sours-brain.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (okyrhoe)