Friday, March 13, 2009

Spiral Saving Time



I used to take life "one day at a time" but lately time feels more like a spiraling continuum of numbered adventures. As the information age speeds things up to a dizzying frenzy, the world as we know it leases many numb with the overwhelming dribble of stuff that matters little.


The long weekend, destination Galapagos.

If we hearken back to a time and place where nature prevailed, the keen observers will tell you that life on earth, indeed the entire physical universe as we know it works in a circular model. This is to say nothing is waisted. All things perish and become nourishment for new life. Be it in a day or millennium the operative word is continuum.


Venus Why Trap, about to swallow.

The material world is not always kind to humans; it is inhospitable and downright menacing. But we have managed to convince ourselves that the epic balance is to be tilted in our favor, with contempt and arrogance we profess our dominance, nature be dammed.



Ussef Yesterday, Tom Today and Terry Tomorrow.

We build a world from scratch that suits our immediate needs and call it progress. All be it with good intentions we stumble along with the grind of desperation to get beyond survival.
The conquest of nature is unattainable.


Where the rubber meets the permafrost.

Problem is the progress we have made is linear. It is based on a one directional course, a path that is inconsistent with the big laws of time and space. We are stewing in a growth model that is unsustainable, a world built on the decay of dinosaurs. A once perfect world we have sullied and laced with lethal radioactive plutonium. With cars, computers and callousness, we are poisoning the very systems that sustain us.


SuperDuperScooperComputer

For the few fortunates it would appear that we have arrived at that magical place where we prevail over nature. Technology is evolving in leaps and bounds. At some point (we've arrived) flesh mortals will become expendable. The information age will usher in a new kind of ice age... a heartless re-chargeable world revolving on our ashes.

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Monday, March 9, 2009

The Loosers Club

First an apology goes out to my readers for the lack of fresh posts lately here at swampstyle.
It is not that the mojo is gone or that i am out of ideas, it is that sometimes a hobby must take a back seat to work at the office and chores around the house. And no, this post is not about bloggers or average menches or about people who go to casinos or watch allot of hi-def TV.

It is about owning a house.



Florida Guaranteed... to get tented for termites.

Not to go too far into the background but I was born in Cuba to a family that owned not only their homes in town but also rural land farms as far as the eye could see. Then the Castro revolution appropriated every bit of private property in the name of progress. Think one giant island land-grab ,foreclosurestyle, at gun-point with no course for reparation. The houses and acres are still there but my family dynasty is mostly evaporated.



The littlest day laborer... I think wee can.

Consequently I grew up in miami swamp-poor with diminished expectations of what I could attain in adulthood from the prospects of the american dream. For too many the much touted dream has become in reality a ball-n-chain of consumerism and a life of hard work just to stay afloat. Consider that natural law will often prevail as our founding fathers knew very well that the enshrined "pursuit of happiness" is directly proportionate to owning a piece of the pie. The reason land is called "real estate" is simply that it is physically real as in the dirt beneath your feet is real.



After Andrew... building the garage to code (aka "the bank vault").

"The ownership society" is now a debunked republican catch-phrase-con-job that has in fact become a nightmare of insurmountable hurdles, obstacles and tribulations that has brought record-setting foreclosures with no bottom in sight. The greed and deceit of a few have drained our community of vitality and hope, thanks in no small part to the very de-regulated institutions that were entrusted to facilitate that dream. The banks, with the help of the real estate industry, own just about everything from Key West to Alaska. On the street where i live in Surfside there are four houses unoccupied and in disrepair bought by flippin' flippers at the height of the housing bubble. I guess people get what they deserve.



After Wilma... if a tree falls on your neighbors house, who clears the mess?

But the focus of this post is not about the housing market hardships we face as a nation. It is about the "bricks n mortar" of owning a house on a lot in a suburban setting in a town that is in fact an urban jungle. Homeowners know what i am talking about. Some homes are relatively low maintenance while others are constant piles of repairs and chores. Sooner or later every house will need work. When it comes to home improvements there is never an end in sight and you'd swear it was a conspiracy by Bob Vella, HGTV and Home Cheapo.



Dirty Jobs... some schmuk will do it.

The housing gods must have been looking down on us because, while renting, we happened upon a very nice old neighbor who was ready to sell at a very reasonable price. Without an ounce of haggling we stuck a deal, were able to get a loan when the banks were acting responsible, and soon joined the Loosers' Club.

With an ear to the ground and a critical eye on the abuses and blunders of the past eight years of Bushanomics, we saw dark days ahead and were somehow able to pay of the mortgage, cancel the Citizen's insurance legalized extortion and are now able save to send the kid to college.



The Bees are Back... thank gawd they aren't africanized!

I call it the Loosers' Club endearingly because, though owning a home may be an added responsibility, it is still worth working for. It is what most people want. With a measure of realistic skepticism and fiscal restraint, the ownership society is actually a good idea.



Home-wrecker / Re-builder... loose some battles, win the war.

When talking to young adults about their dreams and ambitions there is a sense of lowered expectations for living accommodations in a world that is increasingly demanding and downright inhospitable. If you are looking to change your primary residence, it is a renters paradise out there. Or do as Bob Hope and Johnny Carson used to say, "Go where the houses stop, and start buying".



Maybe the sweet bees have the right idea... build more waxy condos.

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Friday, February 27, 2009

Begin at Benin



The thoroughly amusing work of Mali photographer Malick Sibide is on display at the Wolfgang Roth Gallery in the Design District. Sibide's work is culturally anthropological in nature. As a recipient of the distinguished Hasselblad Award and Venice Biannale's Golden Lion Award for lifetime achievement, Sibide's work offers an easy primer for the education of those not yet familiar with the captivating charm of all things African.

Malick's work alone is worth a visit but there is more amazing gems of Africana to enjoy.
This world-class show is a DON'T MISS.



The show features traditional bronzes from Benin. If you ever tried to smelt metal or extract bronze from buckets of earth then you know it ain't easy. The objects on display are sublimely beautiful and totally African. The style is distinct and undeniable, the craftsmanship superb.

Also of interest is a rich selection of the work by legendary Leni Riefenstahl the nazi film maker, chocolate lover, scuba diving granny. Her photos are also amazing images from an Africa that is probably forever lost in the modern world. She is the go-to gal for soft-erotic images of "jungle-bunnies" and "black-as-night-savages".


photo not related...
but nakedly very telling of the Germany of Riefensthal's youth.



It's a Lonnnnnng Way back to Berlin. Leni trolled the dark continent in search of talent to document the beauty in the eye of the beholder of the cradle of civilization.



There must have been allot of dust-shaking going on for the darling from deutschland.



She had to dive pretty deep to rinse away the crust of controversy and disdain piled at her work of nationalistic pride and journalistic lust for the dark continent.


photo not related, just kool.

And finally there is also some great stuff by my pal the incomparable african-american Peter Beard.

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Saturday, February 21, 2009

Yard-Sale Rent-Party


The Second Biennial Design-District Multi-Family
Y a r d - S a l e
is Today.


ONE DAY ONLY - SATURDAY FEBRUARY 21

N.E. 1 Court Between 38 and 39 Streets



... a pickers paradise.

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Friday, February 13, 2009

LoveSick Fri13



On the eve of Saint Valentine's Day, nothing says "I Love You" better than sharing germs. What's a few sniffles between consenting adults. But there are some bugs out there today that are downright debilitating. Dear Mrs. was very sick early this week and so it is that swampthing is way under the weather and projecting from all ends, if you know what i mean. This 24 hour flu that is running roughshod is putting a damper on our weekend.



No amount of pepto-dismal will cure this malady. My otherwise fit self is but a shadow of a wreck. Whatever is going around packs a punch that leaves you worthless and longing for better days. Damn be those tiny monsters from the viral realm.



With so much to do this weekend, I wish it was easier to stop them blasted little bacteria. I have never felt so sick. Luckily it only lasts two days.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Sprechgesang Rock


photo not related.

Langerado Concert may be canceled but....

For the 80' New Wave band that got it's name from a flying fortress killing machine, the B-52s are still a force for Good Times today. Saturday's concert at the Jackie Gleason Theater on Miami Beach was a musical event for old and young. The only thing keeping the house from bubbling over with enthusiasts was the price of admission.



Juniors Beware. Fogies just gotta have fun.
Senior Fox Veteran Rocker aficionado enjoys a dance in the isles with young fan. Some of the kids there were delighted to see the cheerful crowd of mostly 40 plus types... sporting 20 something fashions and reeling in the contagious sounds that made the band world famous.



More than a One Hit Wonder.
With over 60 years on continued service The Stratofortress B-52 bomber is the pride and joy of USA defense department's arsenal of heavy lifters. It carries more hits than the B-52s.



If one is frightening, many is friggin' frightening. If we spend billions bombing the lobster out of other people, then we could invested a little to win hearts and minds around the world with popular musical talent like the B-52s. People love the sound and it would save tons of dough.

Link

Band of Misfit Boys n Girls.
Originally from Athens, Georgia the B 52s are All-American Talent with 30 years of musical accomplishments and hairdos to rival the nose-cones of the bombers.



Live to Rock Another Day at the Funplex.



Mr. and Mrs. Swampthing back-stage with long-time pal Fred Schneider ( Mr. Sprechgesang).



Also back-stage a the Jackie Gleason found some great murals by legendary David LeBatard LEBO. Finally, special thanks to Miami's own Rhythm Foundation for their continued support of the local scene.


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Tuesday, February 3, 2009

SFDB 1903

Congratulations to SouthFloridaDailyBlog.

Like an automatonic editorial dredge, SFDB has stood sentry over the sifting of under-reported anthropological relevance from a myriad of scrap on the web.



From it's tumultuous gestation- stuck on the expressways in the swamp, to the garage bugler of nuanced local web publishing SFDB continues a legacy of dedicated googling work. This grape-vine site is updated more often than the Herald but less often than Fark.


Vintage Clip Art - Hialeah, Florida circa 2007

Align Center

Rick's is the preeminent Go-To Place for ranting, ruminating, vacillating, commiserating and sometimes consternating personal blog journal entries from Miami. Rick's place is up and running with the one year mark in the rear view mirror.



How would SFDB like a Vintage Truck for his First Birthday.
Compliments of swampstyle.

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Duck, Cover, White-Wash, Repeat



In the old days, people were preoccupied with survival to the point of obsession. It was great business for the enterprising bomb-shelter and canned food folk. What's old is new again.



Where's the Tunnel At?

Miami the city-scape is an ever-changing attempt to create a utopian place that is just right for those willing and able to pony-up and get locked-in to the treadmill of revenue streams.



Best and Worst, Side by Side

But in the process of building utopia we will destroy the swamp and everything else. Evidence the changing face of urban graffiti. There are lots of new murals about town, some are striking others mundane. There is also a white-washing of old murals that are now gone forever, thanks no doubt to the county graffiti police wielding the sign ordinance enforcement for cash.



Hug Me, It's Nuclear Tuesday

This particular image in Wynwood is unique for it's content and character. The subject is of a lover's embrace in a landscape of apocalyptic nature. It is a near perfect sci-fi expression of how many must feel given the current conundrums of a city in flux at a time of national and world uncertainties.



DWNTWN without the TrOuble.

One thing is certain. The future will be here... someday. Miami planners are imagining a place that conjures images of BladeRunner ala swampstyle.



Here is a brilliant idea for living in a really small space... even as people are leaving South Florida in search of less green-greedy pastures.



And here is my favorite Graffiti of the Month.

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Monday, February 2, 2009

SoBe Bummmer


Blogger S.O.S. Who the bleep is SoBe Bum and why is it futzing with this blog. What's up with all the links dumped onto swampstyle? Firefox freaks out with each visit to Bum site, it is a download drag.