- Rep Power
One of the most fascinating and most overlooked facts about excellence in art is that its limitations are generally due neither to the running dry of that existence, nor to something extraneous and hostile to it, but are a part and consequence of it. The figure skating of Julia is so because there is so much poetry (in motion) that must be paid for by a loss of the illusion of spontaneity (as a figure skating program is generally choreographic motion or, to a lesser quality, a collection of choreographic motions), yet there is so much rigorous integrity in the figure skating of Julia that it predicates the absence of that wayward quality—that is, ostentatious charm and presence (on the ice). And it is beside the point to say, for example because of the set choreography therein, that the figure skating of Julia consists only of fastidious near-periphrases out there on the ice, if only she could have generated those motions/movements purely through herself. You see, only in artisans (Yuna, Kwan, Cohen, et al.) can the flaws be divorced from the virtues, but in a true artist like Julia—despite the incompleteness of her cruelly burgeoning life’s work—is precisely that her strength and weakness are inseparable, indeed identical, out there on the ice.
Of course you can say of Julia—the girl figure skating out there on the ice—that she is an anima, or perhaps you can say she is the eternal feminine. People say of Greta Garbo that she was all women, Julia is no woman; thereby in her two programs (“You Can’t Give Up On Love” and “Schindler’s List”), Julia can’t help but be a nameless puzzle for those who want to create an artifice (i.e., emotional projecting as defense mechanism) for themselves. Yet in both programs, Julia the figure skater is intensely human and sympathetic, a character (if you will) who empathizes with others, and with whom we, as audience, empathize; but we do not want to accept the responsibilities of her humanity. And because she, a nymph still in physical form and in the form of figure skating, is still unknowing in regards to the voluntary involvement that is expected of her, she is at the mercy of accidental forces. Thus in “You Can’t Give Up On Love,” Julia is trying to preserve her little bit of humanity (love) in a barren world; subsequently in “Schindler’s List,” she is in the midst of the then-barren now-chaotic world, a world she would much rather have control over. Believe me, the figure skating of Julia is not of the alienation in literature, of a Stephen Daedalus or of a Prince Myshkin or even of a Marcel, is not that heroic expense of extending consciousness, becomes inexplicable, but glamorous: misery. No, the figure skating of Julia is more the alienation of the author himself than the misery of the created— she, presently lacking the audience’s hindsight, doesn’t know that suffering will solemnize her life’s work. (The irony of the artist’s suffering is his inability to guess that his audience will make him immortal.)
In our day of sterilized, sealed, artificially ventilated, symmetrical, designed-for-efficiency mentalities and lives, where conformity has been bought at the price of deformity, where everyone is afraid even if he has nothing to fear but his emotions, a Julia is impossible. But in the feigning, filthy, “sympathy”-ridden world of figure skating, which Julia evokes in her figure skating programs, there is still exists a survival by fitness rather than by fitting in, and this gives Julia who did not succumb to superficiality a sense of strength and importance that enabled her to think and speak for herself, if only on the ice.
Gosh Darn It Pasha Grishuk, you are just so full of it, and you have always been full of feces. You are so full of feces your toilet is jealous. PointBlankDOTcom.
The banned troll is back
Originally Posted by PashaPersuasion
I think its time one of your relatives take responsibility in terms of having you certified and permanently locked up in a psychiatric hospital.
Last edited by Maofan7; Yesterday at 12:02 AM.
- Rep Power
^ A man of keen perception, huge wit, and a Dickensian ability to draw character out of wastrels and the dregs (of society). His emotional and intellectual apparatus is a well-sustained, extensive, and fulfilling workout as to warrant a repeat of such a rejoinder.
Originally Posted by PairSk8Fan
The funny (or scary?) part is that you actually think all of your huge words and fancy phrases make you look intelligent.
They just make you look like an arrogant moron.
It's best to ignore a troll. Any kind of response encourages it.