LA Premiere of Breaking Dawn 2 This is not a dress - link Does Stewart appear in DEMURE as a PR person might advise her to do? No, she appears in OBSCENE. The "dress" is porn that is hyper-porn that is OBSCENE costing thousands of dollars by a famous designer, so how can she be criticized. It is sexier than sexy, hyper-sexy, porno, hyper-porno = OBSCENE (Baudrillard, Herzog). See it and look at it. Your eyes lock on her sex and you wonder if she waxes it. It is skin you see through the translucent chiffon. It is being given to the photographers and any paparazzi who are at the Premiere. Gratis, far "worse" (Nietzsche) than the photoshopped images of the media manufactured Debordian SPECTACLE of a scandal. This "gown" designed by a designer of glamorous gowns for glamorous women, Zuhair Murad link for Kristen Stewart to wear to Summit Entertainment's Premiere of Breaking Dawn 2 in Los Angeles, the virgin first showing of the long awaited final film. It is also the first time Kristen Stewart and Rob Pattinson have appeared in public since the media SPECTACLE of the scandal. |
- Here is the media manufactured Debordian SPECTACLE of a Scandal
And here is "NORMAL", ACCEPTED,
APPLAUDED!A Parody, a "dress" as Swiftian Satire.
Foucault touches here on the very structure we find in
Swift, whereby the function of satire is not simply to
create a strange and unfamiliar world, but rather to
return, to rebound upon the present, such that the real
world is shown to be itself a parody...
For there is
a point at which the relation between the distorted image
and the real thing becomes unstable, beyond all dialectical
mediation, a point at which, moreover, it loses the
*generative* force that is given in the concept of
productive negation. The fact that the inverted image
turns out not to be an inversion, but to reveal that the
normal world is itself already inverted, calls into
question the very standard of "normality" by which one
might measure invertedness
^11^ Slavoj Zizek,_ For They Know Not What They Do:
Enjoyment as a Political Factor_ (New York: Verso, 1992), 13.
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Ayn Rand's Dominique Francon is fictionalized in a similar performance, thus calling to mind that "life imitates art".
So I turn to Ayn Rand in The Fountainhead: Dominique Francon's wedding to Gail Wynand. Dominique observes the world as evil. Integrity, excellence all that we say we admire and revere is sabotaged, punished, ridiculed, undermined, and dragged through the dirt.
A beautiful and desirable woman she determines to choose the "worst" man she can to marry:
Gail Wynand, the owner of The Banner that has raised mediocrity to admiration to make a fortune in wealth and power.
Returning from Reno, after divorcing Peter Keating, Wynand meets her train:
"Where are we going, Gail?"
"To get the license. Then to the judge's office. To be married."
"No," she said.
"I want a real wedding, Gail. I want it at the most ostentatious hotel in town. I want engraved invitations, guests, mobs of guests, celebrities, flowers, flash bulbs and newsreel cameras. I want the kind of wedding the public expects of Gail Wynand."
She saw him again when she stood beside him, facing a judge who pronounced the words of the marriage ceremony over the silence of six hundred people in the floodlighted ballroom of the Noyes-Belmont Hotel.
The background she had wished was set so perfectly that it became its own caricature, not a specific society wedding, but an impersonal prototype of lavish, exquisite vulgarity.
Then she stood with him, the mob becoming a heavy silence and a gluttonous stare behind him, and they faced the judge together. She wore a long, black dress with a bouquet of fresh jasmine, his present, attached by a black band to her wrist. Her face in the halo of a black lace hat was raised to the judge.......
Afterward the mockery of the monster reception that followed left him immune. He posed with her for the battery of press cameras and he complied gracefully with all the demands of the reporters, a special noisier mob within the mob. He stood with her in the receiving line, shaking an assembly belt of hands that unrolled past them for hours. ....untouched by these guests who had come here driven by boredom, by an envious hatred, a reluctant submission to an invitation bearing his dangerous name, a scandal-hungry curiosity. He looked as if he did not know that they took his public immolation as their rightful due, that they considered their presence as the indispensable seal of sacrament upon the occasion, that of all the hundreds he and his bride were the only ones to whom the performance was hideous. (F. 478-480)