So I am writing about Facebook, I am thinking about Facebook, I am looking for quotes about Facebook and I dream about Facebook. I am a bit scared of Facebook, because I realize how much power we give to Mark Zuckerberg, Facebook's Ceo, and how much he knows about me, my friends, my habits and my hobbies. All this valuable information collected to be sold to the one who is willing to pay the highest price, all this information to sell me products, all this products to make me happy, all this happiness to make me sad, all this sadness to make me buy more. But, come on Mark, what the hell are you doing there? You know, how old I am, you know I am a guy, you know my hobbies so why do you try to sell me beauty products and slimming drinks, rather then snowboards, ipods, or journeys. These are the only things that you advertise to me today on my Facebook homepage. I mean I don't think I have a problem with my weight, and my face looks alright without makeup. There are two assumptions I can draw out of my research. Dear Mark, is it possible that your principle of tagging the right product to the appropriate group of consumers doesn't work out yet? But how come Microsoft is paying 240 million dollars for 1.6 percent of Facebook’s shares if your system doesn't work out. Or am I just wrong and you are right. Did you actually look at the pictures of me that my friends uploaded? Okay, I look a bit chubby there... Yeah, and on this other one a bit pale, but I was out the night before it was taken. Do you really think I need make up?! I am getting a bit confused and I am not sure what is going on. I mean you have all kinds of information about me, you just need to put them all into your calculator or program or whatever tool you created in order to find out about my consumer habits and voila. All my friends are on Facebook too. You know what my friends want, actually they tagged me in their albums. Therefore you know their expectations regarding me, don't you? You know that they think I am too fat, and I look awful, don't you? You just try to help me out, so I don’t loose my face in front of my book friends. But I want my friends counter to increase, I want more friends, more friends then my friends' friends have. I want to have my friends' friends as my friends. And I don't want to loose my friends, and I don't want my friends' friends to think I am a looser. But all this horrible pictures, and all this people to see them. All this potential numbers on my friends counter who don't want to have a fat, ugly friend, or be the friend of a friend who has chubby, pale friends. Oh no, que domage...I need to put some beautiful pictures on my account and I am going to be popular again. I think I am going to put some pictures of me and some hot girls on. Maybe I photoshop a bit, maybe not... I can't wait for the comments.
Friday, 29 February 2008
The look and the book
My face is a book
I am logging into Facebook and I write, I read and I log out
I am logging into Facebook and I read, I look and I log out
I am logging into Facebook and I took a break, I am read, they look, I log out
I face my logging into the book, the break I took to be read, they shall look and I log
I lock my face into the book I break to be read my look shall be tagged I am logged in
I log into the book that took my look and showed it around, I am put into a spot
You took my look, my Face is a book, an open version put into a structure, placed into a spot...show me your friends and I write your book...I open it up and exhibit you...you are naked, so I dress you...you need a look, I just check my book and I'll dress you.. You don't need the dress I sold you, I'll give you a new one...cause I make the look...you log into your book, show me your face and I read.
I am logging into Facebook and I read, I look and I log out
I am logging into Facebook and I took a break, I am read, they look, I log out
I face my logging into the book, the break I took to be read, they shall look and I log
I lock my face into the book I break to be read my look shall be tagged I am logged in
I log into the book that took my look and showed it around, I am put into a spot
You took my look, my Face is a book, an open version put into a structure, placed into a spot...show me your friends and I write your book...I open it up and exhibit you...you are naked, so I dress you...you need a look, I just check my book and I'll dress you.. You don't need the dress I sold you, I'll give you a new one...cause I make the look...you log into your book, show me your face and I read.
Monday, 18 February 2008
My name
The only info that was available directly linked to my name on google is about photos that I put on an London Photographic Award online portfolio that I was awarded 2 years ago. I am quite happy that these pics are the first things to be found when researching my name. Even though the portfolio isn't supposed to exist anymore, and the photos are quite old and not according to my present style I am happy and very suprised to find them. Strangly enough my name is quite unique even though Philipp is so common. I found it suprising that I acctually couldn't find my blog when I tipped in my name, mais c'est la vie. There is one different man called Philipp Draxler who wrote on a blog about a women' soccer club. Aparently the Bond villain from the movie "Moonraker" is called Drax...Hugo Drax but that's about it..
Monday, 21 January 2008
Mirrors
When I wake up in the morning, I go to the bathroom. I look into the mirror, and voila, I see my reflection....But, hey, there all different kinds, definitions and descriptions of reflections.
Andy Warhol referred to himself as a mirror...and if he would look into a mirror he would see an infinite repetition of nothing(Warhol, From A to B and Back again)...
but hey, you are a mirror too...and everything you see can be reflected to the rest of the world in the light of your personal judgment...
A mirror doesn't necesseraly reflect reality, as there are convex mirrors for example which distort the actual appearance of things. In a way there is no 100 percent accurate reflection of reality... We are all mirrors and reflect to each other...wow...that is deep beauty....
Andy Warhol referred to himself as a mirror...and if he would look into a mirror he would see an infinite repetition of nothing(Warhol, From A to B and Back again)...
but hey, you are a mirror too...and everything you see can be reflected to the rest of the world in the light of your personal judgment...
A mirror doesn't necesseraly reflect reality, as there are convex mirrors for example which distort the actual appearance of things. In a way there is no 100 percent accurate reflection of reality... We are all mirrors and reflect to each other...wow...that is deep beauty....
Sunday, 20 January 2008
This is homework...
Does it really need to be useful, or can it be pretentious, useless and confusing. An account and a memory… not of a concert really, but more of the attempt to write automatically, like Breton, and spontaneously… words spawned, and defined by the very moment of…actually this very moment… and as fated, it happens that I am listening to some music.
My fascination (in this mellow state) was spilled and recollected, puzzled and de-liquified, put in a new form by the colourful resources of the acoustical experience. (It might be worth mentioning on this point, that this was a concert and that it was for the sake of music and not for the sake of party...It was calm and pretty sober, but still as psychodelic as it sounds.)
The bright light was touching, stroking and programming my iris, stimulating my visual senses, deflecting my receptors in order to take away all their prejudice and let them be flooded by the pureness of harmony and joy; out of balance in order to think, feel and experience freely without my mind tricking me by reminding myself of the harmonic hegemony that we are so used to and that has subconsciously coined our evaluation of music since we have listened to our first song in the car of our parents, on the way home from the hospital.It was my first time to encounter (not on the way home from the hospital where I was born, but on the concert that I am describing) the authors, and creators of these acoustical collages; so my mind blow was understandable. Well, on the walk to the toilet I could finally observe the reactions and looks of the other visitors, the rest of the audience; hypnotized, eyes wide open but hardly seeing anything(especially not me, as I had to fight my way through the crowd on a desperate seek for physical relief) since the room was flodded with intense light. It looked like a comunal meditation of people who are confused/amused by the show.
It’s been a while now… It’s been 3 months, maybe eight weeks since I’ve seen those crazy boys with their organic electricity. I reencounter and reflect on my past live-concert experience with Animal Collective. I am listening to them for the first since I have been to their concert… Music, deducted from live-concert-energy and blinding lights, shining at me so bright {and us shining at the performers so brightly, Bradley [there is a slight chance that the person who is just reading these words, at this very moment, is called Bradley. If you, reader, are not in the lucky position to be the holder of this very name, please exclude these words within the brackets (all brackets, including these ones), as well as the last word before them (Bradley) from your memory]}. The concert was more intense then listening to them now… I still like them though...what about you? http://www.myspace.com/animalcollectivetheband
Thanks,
Philipp
My fascination (in this mellow state) was spilled and recollected, puzzled and de-liquified, put in a new form by the colourful resources of the acoustical experience. (It might be worth mentioning on this point, that this was a concert and that it was for the sake of music and not for the sake of party...It was calm and pretty sober, but still as psychodelic as it sounds.)
The bright light was touching, stroking and programming my iris, stimulating my visual senses, deflecting my receptors in order to take away all their prejudice and let them be flooded by the pureness of harmony and joy; out of balance in order to think, feel and experience freely without my mind tricking me by reminding myself of the harmonic hegemony that we are so used to and that has subconsciously coined our evaluation of music since we have listened to our first song in the car of our parents, on the way home from the hospital.It was my first time to encounter (not on the way home from the hospital where I was born, but on the concert that I am describing) the authors, and creators of these acoustical collages; so my mind blow was understandable. Well, on the walk to the toilet I could finally observe the reactions and looks of the other visitors, the rest of the audience; hypnotized, eyes wide open but hardly seeing anything(especially not me, as I had to fight my way through the crowd on a desperate seek for physical relief) since the room was flodded with intense light. It looked like a comunal meditation of people who are confused/amused by the show.
It’s been a while now… It’s been 3 months, maybe eight weeks since I’ve seen those crazy boys with their organic electricity. I reencounter and reflect on my past live-concert experience with Animal Collective. I am listening to them for the first since I have been to their concert… Music, deducted from live-concert-energy and blinding lights, shining at me so bright {and us shining at the performers so brightly, Bradley [there is a slight chance that the person who is just reading these words, at this very moment, is called Bradley. If you, reader, are not in the lucky position to be the holder of this very name, please exclude these words within the brackets (all brackets, including these ones), as well as the last word before them (Bradley) from your memory]}. The concert was more intense then listening to them now… I still like them though...what about you? http://www.myspace.com/animalcollectivetheband
Thanks,
Philipp
Monday, 14 January 2008
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