Making Things Twee

The following is an excerpt of an email sent from Art to the group on 5 December 2015.

The gnome-like creature whose pee tastes like ginger ale aged in oaken casks

Making things twee is exactly right. That's the most recent version of emasculation (and I would say defemination). It was even worse in the 90's when indie was dominated by shoe gazing, voice cracking twee men. I don't have any problem with these kinds of twee or elfen men, in fact, I loved a lot of these bands. I also lump the comics of Daniel Clowes in with this whole wonderful era of the subterranean 90's.

Long story short, there is such a thing as an elfen man. I love me a twee elfen man.

So, I shouldn't say it was worse. But there wasn't any place for a more virile expression. And as my voice got progressively lower and my outsized immigrant features began to assert themselves, I realized that I would never be a part of this era of elfen hairlessness.

On to the topic at hand. Will, I think there's no way the sisters would put Woody "in quotes" (I just put that in quotes, fighting fire with fire so to speak). And they would never "let capitalism do the rest." They would never be allied with capitalism in that way.

I see Woody as a robust force of nature just like the Savage Sisters and similarly endangered by the likes of Don Gilber. I think James Vernor locked him in his basement when he went off to fight in the Civil War. Woody probably blundered in there from the subterranean tunnels and fell asleep. As a pharmacist, Vernor spent the entire war dreaming up a concoction that would progressively cause the wild man in his basement to diminish. Upon return, he subjected him to a regimen that resulted in the gnome-like creature whose pee tastes like ginger ale aged in oaken casks.

I say true muliebrity doesn't feel need to ridicule or diminish virility. Of course, being a pagan force of nature means you do all sorts of things—cast spells, dismember, flay, cannibalize, castrate, etc.—but all in good fun. It would have absolutely nothing in common with modern movements that seem to think suppression and belittlement and detribalizing can somehow replace the riotous harmonies of pagan life (see modern concerns about Grimm's Fairy tales). How about acknowledging the awesomeness of forces beyond our comprehension? We can't do that intellectually, only ritually, only symbolically, only poetically, only artistically, only through music. The Protestant/Enlightenment approach doesn't have the necessary scaffolding to wade into those realities. Just like when Adrienne Rich becomes too topical, her poetry starts to suck. No value judgment on her politics, it just sucks poetically. That's problem with the Protestant/Enlightenment approach in a nutshell.

Having mowed down all its hedges, this approach doesn't have any means for channeling the archetypal herds, keeping wolves and monsters at bay, etc.

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On a totally different subject, after all these years, that is literally the first ICP song I have ever knowingly heard. I had a roommate in college who had a whole group of friends that were active members of this group, one who was a wrestler in their WWF-style wrestling matches. With hardly any knowledge about the group whatsoever, I have to confess a kind of admiration for them. It fit my expectation that the video you sent has been viewed tens of millions of times and has more thumbs down than thumbs up. But, truly in this case, haters gonna hate. More people love Eminem than hate him. More people love Taylor Swift than hate her. These guys can literally say that more people hate them than love them, but, since that comes from a pool of millions of people, they actually have an extremely large fan base, one that has a cult-like devotion to them and their many spin-off enterprises.

Deliciously Different!

The following is an excerpt of an email sent from Art to Will and the group on 3 December 2015.

Woody has mellowed over the years

That's funny, I didn't realize he was just a gnome. From the beard up, he looks like your traditional wild man of the woods character. If he is a gnome, could it be that he was once a virile wild man—a huge hairy, bearded dude with gnashing molars and thunderous laughter? Perhaps his diminishment is due to that modern process by which we become caricatured, eviscerated, emasculated, defeminated versions of ourselves, suitable only for branding purposes. This could be a kind of Robert Bly, Iron John, men's movement type thing, but not limited to men only. Just the idea that there's no room for that sort of pagan spirit in a Socratic, Alexandrian, rationalistic, deterministic, positivist, empiricist, consumerist, materialist, materialistic society.

I don't think the Savage Sisters would have done this to Woody. No one so clearly secure in their own identity/muliebrity would do this to another. I don't know, maybe they would, but in a spirit of mischief, not malice. Of course, part of the reason they don't rain arrows down on Arthur is his feminine qualities (see "A Distinctly Feminine Attack on History" and "Frolicsome Fawn-Like Movements"). But more than anything else, Arthur is childlike, not unmanly. He's just a different kind of spirit—not the wild man type, but some other unadulterated expression. I would think that the Savage Sisters would recognize that same essence in Woody, even while keeping a safe distance and even battling with him from time to time. Of course, they might turn him into a gnome, but that's just par-for-the-course paganism. Even dismembering him wouldn't be that big of a deal. He'd probably be laughing and bellowing through the whole thing. Like them, he is unhistorical. This isn't Don Gilber.

Probably James Vernor did this to him, trying to sanitize and sell wild man urine!

The Vernor's Dude

The following is an excerpt of a 3 December 2015 email exchange between Will, Art, and the group.

Woody the Gnome

Will:

I'm also up for the traveling notebook and the zine. 

Also, I think the Savage Sisters of Shakespeare should be our project's version of two other Detroit staples: GLOW (the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling) and Juggalos. By our version, I mean probably not much like those things at all. But Faygo should be involved. 

Also, somehow I thought the Benefactor morphed into Leif Erickson's sister....that the Benefactor was the Lodestone keeper. For Art, he's the person who ruins the project by funding it, either in real life or in the story. For me, he or she ruined America by funding it with the lodestone's power. 

I think besides Victoria Woolf's being a Freudian slip on my part, she is in my eyes what Steffi becomes when she absorbs the power of the lodestone and the life force of Leif Erikson's sister, who may or may not be The Benefactor or both. 

Also, I think we've got the postmodern revival of the allegory of the cave going on here, with the return to paganism and the arches within arches. And of course, the actual cave.

Art:

How about the Vernor's dude? Could be a new character. Some kind of archetypal figure from Detroit's version of the Schwarzwald. I see him being some sort of pagan figure who gets dismembered or eats children, but is sanitized and repurposed as Vernor's logo.

Will:

I love it. I think a Rumpelstiltskin-type approach would work. I think that any Icelandic magical creatures who end up in the salt mines with Leif Erikson's sister should be refugees from the patriarchical structure of Germanic myth. That means this gnome has somehow fled to be nestled in the lap of a very powerful and wise gynocracy (which was just autocorrected into "gyro crazy," which means we must be talking about the caves under Greektown). 

So I'm thinking his story has to be a strange permutation of the traditional child eater/mischief maker/imp thing. What sort of gnome would the SSS keep for a lapdog, and how would the story morph into bringing the gift of Vernor's to Detroit? What is an Icelandic Pan who enjoys subservience to women all about? Is he the Mordred of the Arthur White universe? 

Also, how much of this salt mine world does he see? Does he see it in dreams? Can he ever distinguish any of it from mystical visions? And as a fairy tale percolates under the city, how does it shape Childe Arthur?