Where Is This Maybe-Greil Marcus Quote From?

I remember reading a quote, possibly from Marcus, that said something to the effect of; Real punk will be when an audience member climbs on stage, takes the microphone away from the artist, and declares, 'I am the artist now.'

Anyone recognize that or know where it might be from?

i am the artist now

you're so punk

I am the thread-starter now. What's the best Prong song: "Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck" or "Prove You Wrong"?

we are all the artist today

We've just been playing a guerilla gig
In the middle of another group's guerilla gig
Well surely that's the ultimate guerilla gig?
But still they cried like girls

crying girls r so punk

its some dadadda dude

It's from Lipstick Traces:

All of this took place in what situationist Guy Debord had called "the heaven of the spectacle." "I am nothing and I should be everything," a young Karl Marx had written, defining the revolutionary impulse. "The spectacle," as Debord developed the concept through the 1950s and 1960s, was at once the kidnapping of that impulse and its prison. It was a wonderful prison, where all of life was staged as a permanent show-- a show, Debord wrote, where "everything that was directly lived has moved away into a representation," a beautiful work of art.
..."The spectacle," Debord said, was "capital accumulated until it becomes an image." A never-ending accumulation of spectacles-- advertisements, entertainments, traffic, skyscrapers, political campaigns, department stores, sports events, newscasts, art tours, foreign wars, space launchings-- made a modern world, a world in which all communication flowed in one directing, from the powerful to the powerless. One could not respond, or talk back, or intervene, but one did not want to. In the spectacle, passivity was simultaneously the means and the end of a great hidden project, a project of social control. On the terms of its particular form of hegemony the spectacle naturally produced not actors but spectators: modern men and women , the citizens of the most advanced societies on earth, who were thrilled to watch whatever it was they were given to watch.
As Debord drew the picture, these people were members of democratic societies: democracies of false desire. One could not intervene, but one did not want to, because as a mechanism of social control the spectacle dramatized an inner spectacle of participation, of choice. In the home, one chose between televion programs; in the city, one chose between the countless variations of each product on the market. Like a piece of avant-garde performance art, the spectacle dramatized an ideology of freedom.
...Like TV fans with a satellite dish, who imagine that they create their own entertainment out of an infinity of channels, the members of the audience feel as if they have intervened in the spectacle of the artist's performance, but they have not; they have played by the artist's rules, where such putative intangibles as chance, risk, and violence were fixed from the start. The only true intervention would be for someone to step out of the crowd and shout, "No, no, I am the artist, you must do what I tell you to do, you must play my game, which is..." Then the rest of the crowd, and the original artist, would be faced witha real choice, a choice containing all the intangibles of epistemology, aesthetics, politics, social life. It would be as if one of the fans who traditionally jumps from the stands during a World Series game then joined the contest, and got everone playing a new game; as if a mad scientist with a crate of Alladin's lamps set up a table in Macy's and by her very presence destroyed the value of every other available commodity-- but, as with the intervention of the audience member claiming to be the artist, such things have never actually happened.
So did the spectacle work on the most prosaic levels of everyday life, but Debord meant much more. As a theater the spectacle was also a church: "the material reconstruction of the religious illusion." Modern mastery, the domination of nature by technology, the potential abolition of the domain of necessity in the modern society of abundance, had not "dispelled the religious clouds where men had placed their own powers, detached from themselves, it has only anchored them to an earthly base."
This earthly base was modern capitalism, an economic mode of being that by the 1950s had expanded far beyond the mere production of obvious necessities and luxuries; having satisfied the needs of the body, capitalism as spectacleturned to the desires of the soul. It turned upon individual men and women, seized their subjective emotions and experiences, changed those once evancescent phenomena into objective, replicable commodities, placed them on the market, set their prices, and sold them back to those who had, once, brought emotions and experiences out of themselves-- to people who, as prisoners of the spectacle, could now find such things only on the market. It was these special commodities-- items whose objective form served as adisguise for their subjective content (the suit that wore status, the LP that played indentity-- which rose into the heaven of the spectacle. Here a miracle as strange as that claimed by any religion was repeated again and again, every day. What was, once, yourself, was now presented as an unreachable but irresistably alluring image of what, in this best of all possible worlds, you could be.
In such a world, one finally consumed no ordinary sort of thing, but oneself-- which, now removed into the material reconstruction of the religious illusion, where you had placed your own powers detached from yourself, was experienced as other: as a thing. Marxists located alienation in the workplace, where what the worker produced was taken from him. Debord believed that material abundance and technical mastery had for the first time in history permitted all people to consciously produce themselves, but in place of that radical freedom he found only its image, the spectacle, in whic every act was alienated from itself. Here what one was was taken away. This was the modern world; to the degree that the real field of freedom had expanded, so had the epistemology, the aesthetics, the politics, and the social life of control. '

real punk will be when an audience member climbs on stage, takes the microphone away from the artist and declares tl;dr

the only real punk i know is burt_stanton

real punk is when an audience member rushes the podium at a Greil Marcus reading and declares, "no one is an artist now."

real punks don't know who greil marcus is and if anybody starts to say "greil marcus documented the connective tissue between the punk movement and older art movements / social rebellions, including dadaism, the communards, and the situat--" BLAM bike chain across the face

real punks are on average 2x larger than humans, also they live in caves down by the river

Last night one crawled into my house when I left the door open.

you know you are a real punk when You think the last words to The Star Spangled Banner are "Gentlemen, start your engines."

I thought when somebody got in your back door that made you the punk? I dunno, my prison sex lingo is a little rusty...

didn't keith moon do this the first time he played with the who?

Real punk will be when an audience member climbs on stage, takes the microphone and the instruments away and declares: "learn to play and sing, you bunch of lazy self-righteous bores!"

So punk = heckling?

Real punk will be when an audience member climbs on stage, takes the microphone and the instruments away and declares: "learn to play and sing, you bunch of lazy self-righteous bores!"

― Vision, Wednesday, November 19, 2008 10:21 PM (13 minutes ago) Bookmark Suggest Ban Permalink

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i am the challops now

Yeah He1ges0n, go ahead, do it yourself. Blame it on the system.

Hey Vision, real punk will be when an audience member climbs on stage, takes the microphone and instruments away and declares: 'I'm Camille Paglia!'

That would be interesting Mordy, but to aggressively spit on a copy of Sexual Personae onstage and then submit oneself to several frenzied chest papercuts with the pages where she mentions Elvis would be more, you know, GG Allin/Iggy and stuff.

...

BTW, ironically enough, if I'm not mistaken one of the blurbs on the paperback edition of Sexual Personae is by Greil Marcus.

full circle

DO YOU SEE

Mordy Personae & The Holy Greil

I'm suddenly feeling so passive aggressive at Vision that I'm considering bumping the Sexual Personae thread with some nasty remark about Paglia. But I think that might hurt me too :(

Cmon, since last week I doubt you managed to read more than 100 pages from it. Finish the book and go back to that thread. As for hurt, it will make you stronger etc.

You're an idiot.

See? I bet you feel stronger already.

niiice

Don't mention it, glad to help.

Oh yeah, thanks for the source, Stevie. I was gonna thank you earlier but then I got distracted.

you guys are trying too hard

Real punk is not trying too hard?

Real punks don't eat ice cream and then try to act all tough in a way that implies a denial of their ice cream eating. Real punks act tough in a way that affirms their ice cream eating.

haha classic i forgot about that - "ice cream eating motherfucker, that's what you are"

Real punk is not trying too hard?

A real punk would've shoved Tom Courteney out of the way before saying "I am the lonely long-distance runner NOW!"

punk is getting rad and rocking out

This thread has gone on much longer than I thought it would.