In 2017, Raymond Green began a slow and irrevocable descent towards blindness. He was the greatest filmmaker of our generation, and everyone was quite upset when they read the news on Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr.
It is unknown what Raymond Green does now. After a few public statements and awards appearances littered with great reverence and wry jokes, Ray departed into some unknown ether within the sprawl of Los Angeles. His friends occasionally spoke of his good health and continued happiness in various public forums, but little else was written or said.
I doubt his happiness, against my own better nature.
Frankly, I wonder how he stands things now. Here’s a guy who lived his life thorough a lens and traversed from each perfectly constructed image to the next. And now he’ll never see anything again. Nothing. Not one of those perfect images, and nothing in between. So what does Raymond Green do now?
The room screamed with noise and status. Men in dark suits and women in bright dresses walked in circles and spoke of someplace else.
Don Larchmann, former mayor and businessman and current money launderer, commented smugly to his strained date that this room contained nothing but bullshit and whispers. The real people, he confidently revealed, weren’t here, and if they were, they wouldn’t say a word.
Don may have been right, but his comment missed the point. His gaze ignored the man who stared, the man who did not circle. This was the man whose eyes fell not on the nondescript paintings or who was who and what was what. This man focused entirely on the white spaces between the carefully overpriced specks of genius. So stark, those white spaces.
All had soon departed, but the walls and the man who watched them remained. The paintings now lay in the corner, stacked with little respect or heed for their integrity. They appeared far more at ease within the apex of this rough jostling than they ever had glued to the rectangular room’s white walls. Near the top of the unceremonious stack, the edge of a stylized self-portait peered out, a raised eyebrow and jutting nose revealed upon the muse’s face.
The muse stood next to his own visage and glanced down, arms folded and eyes drawn to the blankness surrounding him once more. And there he remained until sunrise.
If Digital Refrain is where pop culture meets genius, then we’re going to need to talk about Ai Weiwei.
The controversial Chinese artist and activist is many things, but there’s one quality that binds all of his interests and his passion: he is a creator.
To the mainstream, he is best known for his help in designing the Beijing National Stadium, better known as The Bird’s Nest that was the hub of the 2008 Summer Olympics. But where most people would consider a world renowned stadium to be the highest of accomplishments, it likely wouldn’t even rank too high on Weiwei’s list if you consider his artistic side to be a medium where he best expresses his creativity and provides a message all at once.
The more introspective, and conversation-generating pieces include a series of photographs of him dropping a Han Dynasty urn or the companion to that: painting logos on them. There’s his Sunflower Seeds installation at Tate Modern in London in 2010. Simplistic in its presentation, the one hundred million sunflower seeds were in fact all painted in a small town in China by over 1,500 artisans. To those that appreciate art, it is a massive project. Look a little deeper, it’s Weiwei’s way of communicating his long standing views on consumerism, famine, elitism and the dangers of tradition and unwillingness to change.
Ask any person who’s appreciated and interpreted Weiwei’s work, their opinions will differ; not a dispute over his genius, but rather the message that it sends. But it’s clear: his art stimulates and creates conversation. They’re not conclusive, but they inspire you to want to understand how that conclusion may have come about.
The need to create and the need to provoke change might’ve started at an early age for Weiwei. His father Ai Qing was a famous Chinese poet, but was denounced by the government in the 1950s during the Anti-Rightist movement and exiled for 20 years as a farm laborer.
Weiwei also spent sometime in the 1980s in New York, his photographs during his stint have been collected by the Asia Society Museum in New York.
He once said, “The New York I knew no longer exists. Looking back in the past, I can see that these photographs are facts, but not necessarily true. The present always surpasses the past, and the future will not care about today.”
Can a phrase be art? Can a man’s words carry more meaning that it’s meant to?
Read about Weiwei long enough, you start to question these things too.
Filmmaker Alyson Klayman sought out these answers in a wonderful documentary released earlier this year titled “Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry”. The moments we as viewers get to spend with Weiwei in his secluded home and art studio gives us a glimpse into a man that seems, in a surprising twist, vulnerable.
His art and his views are surely not shy. He never even used a computer before 2005, but since doing so, became one of the most read bloggers in the world, and cultivated a large following on Twitter (his pronunciation of the social network’s name in the movie is a hidden gem) which he’s used to continue to exert his influence and spread his message.
But when he discusses his art, he claims that “I’m not sure I’m good at it, but I find an escape in it. This is one way you can release yourself.”
He doesn’t consider himself brave, but he communicates and makes himself available and accessible so that people are always aware of where he is. Because that matters when you develop your own unique voice in China, you can only go rogue for so long until they bring you in.
And Weiwei was no exception. His Shanghai art studio was demolished by the government, and he disappeared for 81 days during a jail stint for some unpaid taxes, or so the story goes.
This is where the movie leaves off. He returns, but can he still be the same? You can be strong, you can inspire, you can be the creator of art, of conversation, of change, of everything; but if all of that is suppressed within, where’s the escape for Weiwei? Where will he find his release?
This is just a small portrait of who Weiwei is. I could go on about his other projects, specifically his work with the Sichuan earthquake disaster, to illustrate the point. But all of what he does and what he believes in are consistently represented in all of his creations.
And so perhaps the one thing we owe him is to create something ourselves: the awareness of Weiwei’s story, and an appreciation for a man who claims to fear, yet acts with only purpose, and no regard for the circumstances that he is bound to face.
“My Friend Dahmer” is a graphic novel project that was released earlier this year, written and illustrated by Derf Backderf. It chronicles the high school years of notorious serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer.
Backderf is the appropriate commentator for this narrative, because he actually went to high school with Dahmer, and was part of the reclusive social group that he belonged to.
The book is not an in-depth psychological study on how Dahmer became the monster that he was, and you can say that even the circumstances he faced as a child — in a small town, neglected by parents who were too busy with themselves, with drugs, with their divorce — are any different than how most people struggle their way through their normal lives. But that’s the whole point of it. How normal this story feels, without the backdrop of knowing where Dahmer’s story ends, it’s just a high school tale a socially awkward kid with disturbing tendencies towards studying animals and human parts.
It’s how thin the line between his story and any other kid’s story that makes this such an interesting read. There are frightening moments, functioning as a foreshadow for what Dahmer would become. But there are the light hearted ones too, just a kid with a sense of humor who was not afraid to entertain his friends even if it embarrassed himself.
Backderf makes it clear at the end of the story that even though this graphic novel does in some ways humanize Dahmer and portrays him not necessarily in a better light, but one with a widen lens, that he in no way condones or forgives Dahmer for what he became.
In the epilogue, Backderf and his high school friends reunite and wonder what happened to Dahmer, who they had lost touch with after graduating. One of them commented, “He’s probably a serial killer now” and they break into laughter.
Once you get through the details in this book and get to that point, you’ll find that ending to be harrowing. It’ll stick with you for a bit.
This article is meant to be read with the following soundtrack gently played in the background:
#yeezy2nightbefore
I set my alarm clock for 8 am. It was Friday, June 8th. The Yeezy 2’s would be released the next morning. I considered that thought and set the alarm on my phone for 8 am as well. I closed my eyes and envisioned purchasing the Yeezy 2’s and putting photos up on Instagram and Facebook. I imagined all the e-props I’d get from people I’d never meet. I placed my Playoff 12’s by the front door. I went to sleep.
#yeezy2daymorning
I woke up at 8:19 am that Saturday, June 9th, the earliest I’ve been up in six years. I was unfamiliar with the morning. It was very quiet outside. The sun was shined through from the opposite room of the house. Strange.
A dozen pairs of Yeezy 2’s, ranging from size 8-13, were being raffled off by a local sneaker store at a park in downtown Portland. Tickets were $3, sold from 9-10:30. The raffle would take place shortly after.
I started driving downtown. It was 8:24 am. Strange, the roads were empty. I was able to run a couple red light because I had to get to the Yeezy 2’s. There was no traffic on the highways in this alter-world of 8:40 am.
Downtown Portland was very unique as well. I normally come down around 11-11:30 pm on Friday and Saturday nights where it is very difficult to find parking. Now, I felt like taking two or three parking spaces at once to see how it felt.
I parked on an empty street. I breathed deeply. After months of rumors and anticipation, this was happening. Would we be the same after this? I got out and walked towards the park.
I arrived shortly before nine. Two separate lines stretched in opposite ways around the block. One line was to purchase a raffle ticket, the other was to take down driver’s license information.
I got in line behind two people in their early 30’s.
“It’s June? Time’s been flying like crazy. First the 12’s, then the 4’s, then the Yeezy’s,” one observed.
“I’m getting two pairs of the IX’s and then I’m done with the shoe game,” the other replied and shook his head at the line.
A lady carrying a shopping bag walked by.
“What’s this line for?” she asked.
“The Yeezy’s,” I said.
“What’s that?” she asked.
The nerve.
“The Yeezy 2’s. Kanye? Watch the Throne? The shoe?” I said.
“For a shoe?”
She made a face and walked away, swagless.
We moved forward.
I saw a man in a wheelchair get in back of the line. There were men, women, boys and girls (there was an age requirement of 14). There was an even ratio of snapback to no snapback.
We moved forward again.
The person behind me answered his phone.
“You bringing your lil bro? You know your odds increase exponentially if he comes.”
We moved forward.
A mini-van parked on the street near us. Eight people hopped out and sprinted behind me. I couldn’t see the end of the line from where I stood.
I eventually got to the front of the line and paid my $3. I received my raffle ticket. I was reinvigorated.
There were more than 500 people at the park at this time. I looked over my number and walked to the back of the other line. The person in front of me turned and said, “These numbers gotta mean something man, that’s the last three number of my social security. That’s a sign.”
He added “I need to get my eBay rep up.”
Then he explained how he had a dream the night before that there was a brawl during the raffle so he snatched a pair while no one was looking and ran off.
We moved forward. It was a little past 10 am.
“I live in Gresham. But that’s too far so I stayed at my boy’s place downtown last night,” a person behind me said.
“I don’t get it. Why are these shoes so hyped?” a girl asked.
“‘CAUSE THEY FROM THE FUTURE!” someone yelled.
A group of kids posed for a picture showing the Roc A Fella diamond symbol. One turned to the crowd.
“THROW UP THE DIAMONDS!!”
I took Instagram photos of people taking Instagram photos of me. The line moved forward.
We discussed what we’d do with the shoes if we won a pair. The common response was eBay.
“I’m not wearing them. That’s six months of rent. Well, I might wear them once to see what it’s like.”
More people kept arriving.
“I woke up without an alarm today. I went to bed at 1, and I just knew I’d wake up.”
A couple steps forward.
“I don’t give a fuck. If they have size 8, I’ll wear it. If they have size 12, I’ll wear it.”
I checked Twitter.
“I don’t know the names of any shoes out there. I know heat.”
A few steps forward.
“I won a raffle before, an iPod back in middle school. My heart was racing when they called my name. I got this.”
A car drove by.
“They taking credit card out here? Where’s an ATM??”
The college aged student turned to me again. He lowered his voice.
“It’s 11:11. Make a wish. But you can’t tell anyone you wished for Yeezy 2’s or else it won’t come true.”
I eventually got my information taken. Then we waited some more.
#yeezy2: The Game Within the Game
Both lines were complete around 11:30 am. Many athletes talk about a moment of intense peace before the start of big games. I felt it. Several hundred people circled around the play structure in the enclosed park. An employee ascended to the top of the plastic slide. A hush. William Golding wrote about a similar situation in “Lord of the Flies”. Except instead of a conch, the leader had raffle tickets for the Yeezy 2’s.
#yeezy2notcaring
At first, I didn’t give a shit because I wasn’t going to win. There were over 600 people in the raffle. I didn’t have a chance. I wasn’t going to wear the shoes. But the person next to me made a deep point: as long as we had a ticket, we had a chance. Then I imagined it – my number would be called, and I would walk to the front of the crowd as people stared in awe. I would hold up a pair of 10.5’s and drink champagne from it like it was the Stanley Cup. I would be on the cover of Sneaker Freaker, maybe Sports Illustrated, maybe Time Magazine getting breastfed in Yeezy 2’s. Which lead to the…
#yeezy2hope
I was convinced I was gonna win. I was there for a purpose. It was my time. Everything that I had worked for in my life lead up to this day.
The raffle started. This person won, then that person, then another, then another, then another. Which lead to the…
#yeezy2therealization
The realization I wasn’t going to win.
Which lead to the…
#yeezy2crowddispersal
After the last number was announced, everyone walked straight to their cars and left. Hundreds of pissed off with nothing to show but a ticket. The park cleared out in minutes. I walked back up the street empty handed which lead to the…
#yeezy2depression
I haven’t ate in two days.
———————-
The eBay-ification of Life
We talked about how stupid it was to wait in this line for this shoe while we waited in line. Then we talked about what shoes we were looking to camp out for in the near future. Did you camp out for the Concords? Did you get the Military 4’s this morning? How long would you have camped out? We asked “Do you think this shoe is actually nice?” and responded “This shoe is ugly.” And yet we all waited, for three hours, for a raffle. For a pair of shoes few planned to wear.
One of the early winners pumped his fist while his friend yelled “EBAY!” A guy with two female friends stood near the slide during the raffle. When one of the girls won, the guy turned to the crowd, pumped his fist, and said “That’s my shoe! That’s MY shoe!” Later in the raffle, employees announced there were only three shoe sizes left – 8, 11.5, and 13, to which the response was “I’LL TAKE THEM ALL!!!”
Many in the raffle, especially those who grew up with Kanye’s music, genuinely like the design and the inspiration of the Yeezy 2’s. I wouldn’t have sold them or worn them. It’d be a keepsake of the summer I waited in line, checking updates on Denmark-Netherlands on my iPhone. Actually, I’d have worn them a couple times for Instagram sake, then stored them, and they’d be the crown jewel of my collection (props to @dacspan for the art above). Yet there was no question where most of the shoes would end up. There was a rumor that a pair sold for $90,000. Shoe culture is a balance between personality and design – what you like and what it says about you. But making thousands of dollars by buying a raffle ticket on a random Saturday morning? The market over everything.
I needed to cleanse my soul from these ideals of greed. Powell’s Bookstore, perhaps the most famous bookstore in the world, was a few blocks up the street. Three stories of ideas, stories, and human endeavor. This would save me. I walked to the fiction section, straight to the “F”. Ahh, Faulkner, the great writer who said that man will live forever because of a “soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance”. He’d never desert me in this darkest hour. I took “Light in August” off the shelf. The seminal work, his famous exploration of the human prejudices that span and define generations. I found a used copy for $8.95. I grinned as I walked to the checkout counter. $8.95? I could get at least $14 for that.
Final Stats:
Number of t-shirts that said “Turn My Swag On” – 4
Writer’s Note: The soundtrack to part 1 of this piece is supplied by DJ Premier
I first met Digital Refrain owner Connor Huchton (well I’ve never met Connor but you know what I mean) a couple years ago. Our initial conversations focused on basketball, then developed into humor, fast food, and ultimately Digital Refrain. Like a lot of high school seniors, Connor Huchton is a very interesting person with a unique backstory and viewpoint. I recently sat down with Huchton for a two part interview to talk about Digital Refrain, the writing process, and his collegiate future.
[writer's note: @yuccimane's questions will be in bold, @connorhuchton's replies will be normal]
@yuccimane: I love the name “Digital Refrain”. How did you come up with it?
@connorhuchton: I had floated the idea of ‘Digital Review’ and ‘Digital Response’, but I was basically stuck with Digital _____ . You provided the second word, and thus the final name. [editors note: yes I did, haha]
What GM did you emulate when building the DR roster? Rich Cho?
I feel like I was going for more of a Daryl Morey vibe. Keep on getting a little bit better, one added writer at a time.
Describe your writing process and desk set up.
I have a desk, but I feel like I should use it more. It’s a very good desk – wooden, lighted, the whole deal. But I mostly write while laying on my couch. Sometimes I stare upwards when I’m struggling to come up with something to advance the drudgery. When I have a really good idea, I’ll put down about 250 words in five minutes. But otherwise, it can be slow. All of this is very intriguing, but I’ll stop talking about it now.
There have been some very good articles already written on the site. But out of all the writers on the site, who do you hate the most? Name a couple people where you are like “Ahh shit, I fucked up” and you don’t respond to their emails anymore lol?
You. I didn’t even mean to respond to this email.
Where do you see Digital Refrain one year from now?
Oh, this feels like a question I’m supposed to answer seriously. Well, I want us to be the most popular pop culture website in the world, but that probably isn’t going to happen. I’d like for the site to keep producing great, original content, and that’s something I certainly feel we’ve done so far.
Do your parents know that you are on Twitter?’
Yes.
How did you choose your Twitter handle @connorhuchton? What does it mean to you?
It’s my name, and not much else. I assume it means something about heroism and greatness.
Many people only know you as @connorhuchton. What is the difference between Connor Huchton and @connorhuchton and which do you feel is a more realistic portrayal of you?
I think my Twitter account is a pretty accurate representation of who I am as a person, except when people don’t like it.
Recount the night when you were trending in Dallas. How did your high school peers react to that? Was that your coming of age moment on Twitter?
Ah, the night I trended in Dallas. That was the best. I also trended in Houston, for those who want ‘the story behind the story’. I don’t think most of my peers even know what it would mean to trend on Twitter. They’re more LinkedIn fans.
Who has had the biggest impact on your Twitter game and how?
Yeesh, that’s a tough one. It’s so tough it actually made me say “Yeesh” when I read it. Everyone on Twitter influences each other. That’s one of the great things about it. But if I had to choose one person, I’d say @Seth_Bawl. But it might be someone who I followed early on and always thought was funny, like @seth_rosenthal (two Seths!) or @jon_bois.
Name three things you look forward to the most next year in college.
Hmm. A) California Weather/School Campus B) Sporting Events C) Continuing my education!
Are you going to tell your college peers you are on Twitter right away or will they find out gradually?
I’m sure they’ll make the connection the next time I trend on Twitter. Maybe they’ll see me tweeting and become intrigued. But I’d like people to find out naturally, though I am predisposed to work in the fact that I have 1,300 Twitter followers into every conversation without also mentioning that I have over 50,000 tweets.
How will your writing, your basketball viewing, and your Tweeting make the transition into college?
It’ll probably still be on a couch, only this time on a less comfortable one.
What part of your overall life game do you look forward to growing in the most?
I really think I’m going to grow. Like, get physically bigger. The possibilities of a 6’6 Connor Huchton are endless, except not at all.
Looking at all things objectively, are you funny?
I’m as funny as the funniest thing I’ve ever said. I’m as funny as this answer. I’m as funny as you decide I am.
steven lebron
Andrew
charlesthomasosborn
Connor Huchton
Brian Schroeder
Dave Murphy
Steve McPherson
Jesse Golomb
Joe Lawrence
Jordan White
leifseifert
Michael Levin
maddisonbond
Sean Highkin
Seth_Blaw
@Yuccimane
Z Roberts
Thom Powell
