File spoon-archives/baudrillard.archive/baudrillard_1997/baudrillard.9709, message 7


From: RCWilk-AT-aol.com
Date: Mon, 8 Sep 1997 22:19:40 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: Re: Interview Request



>   Why sure, go ahead - although I *am* rather busy with this Princess Diana
> non-event that continually feeds the effect without giving anyone time to
do
> their own grieving.       JB
> 

****** I hate to sound nasty, but for whom are you grieving? Did you know
Diana well?


 So true.

 There is no grief time available, the thrust of the events lead from one
spectacle to another.  Even if we could recover the real grief, it would no
longer be there, as you point out - for it is not something we experienced,
she is not someone we knew.  None the less, we continue to consume
~something~ and perhaps grief is now a commodity and perhaps it is not. It
doesn't matter, the event has gone beyond spectacle to hyper-spectacle.
Everything now passes faster than light speed through everything else, Elton
John through giant funerals, though tv, through floral displays of royal
opinions, what's your opinion, this is how we distract and create a temporary
reality to distract from there not being any reality. Like candles in the
wind, except that there is no blowing in the wind, just the passing of gas.
This whole disapproval of the monarchy is England's last disneyland, a place
of make believe to fool us into believing what is outside of the ancient
monarchy is modern and real. Such royal horse manure. Such is modern
delusion. Such is our grief, models of grief having replaced something that
never really existed anyway, or if it did, the bridge is gone and only the
river Kawi remains this day, oops, sorry, the Thames.  Now the model of grief
spins out of control, duplicating and proliferating, metamorphisizing into
insanity - sorry, no insanity unless there is a sane to compare it against.
 Grief for Diana flees in the woods like Actaeon, who having gazed upon the
naked goddess, can no longer be recognized by its companions and is torn to
pieces by hounds it once commanded.     JB

   

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