Jesse Andrews-McNurney
Study Questions
Video-Games Criticism 2: Post-Impressionism through Fluxus
November 13, 2013
1. I contend that the mouse is in fact unaware of what is written on its chest. Given the careful rendering of the mouse, reminiscent of a young child’s and filled with innocence, the repetitious whimsy of the musical loop, and the bright colors so meticulously chosen by the artist, we may imagine a similarly light or childish feeling upon that central mammalian figure. The writing upon the mouse seems foreign to the whole affair, and, indeed, takes upon itself a similar role to graffiti, acknowledging its environment by standing in strong-headed defiance of it.
Furthermore, we note the flat rendering of the mouse, underscored by the harsh borders which separate it from all other elements of the composition. We view the mouse, then, as an abstraction, we see its artificiality. It could be said that this mouse is no more mouse than it is a symbol of a mouse, a paper prop set up in absence of the real thing. The mouse, then, has no mind at all, and we return to the question of whether the mouse conceives of its bodily scrawl and realize it as a patently ridiculous manifestation of the pathetic fallacy. The mouse, or more accurately the mouse-symbol, does not think, and if we think it does neither do we.
This is thus the fundamental irony of the work, that message hidden so carefully along its outer conceptual edges. We begin to unravel the fiction of the mouse, pulling at the loose thread of the writing on its chest like stray hairs, and we realize that this all is a fiction, of no portent. In a sudden shock, we look up, and begin to wonder why anyone would spend so long writing an internet comment in response to a question proposed in jest inside the game itself. We suddenly realize that this, too, is a fiction and, like the mouse, has no knowledge of itself. We grab hold of this thread and pull and pull hoping madly to unravel the reality around us.
2. Nothing.
3. We walk away from and abandon forever the poisoned honey of video-games. “Did I eat lunch today?” we wonder aloud to no one.
While I applaud your enthusiasm — you really were one of my favorites — I regret to inform you that I cannot accept this assignment for review as I am no longer your professor — or anybody’s, for that matter — and haven’t been for quite some time.
I’m touched, of course, that you would send it my way, but find it…troubling, let’s say, that you’ve apparently imagined yourself a student again. While I’ve long since forgiven you — really, I have — perhaps you need reminding that you’re the reason I was denied tenure?
I wish you well. I really do. But please don’t contact me again.
Yours, mostly fondly,
Professor Cat
P.S. – I’ve played the game. I understand its relevance to our…situation. But if you have something to say to me, just go on and say it.
Jesse Andrews-McNurney
Study Questions
Video-Games Criticism 2: Post-Impressionism through Fluxus
November 13, 2013
1. I contend that the mouse is in fact unaware of what is written on its chest. Given the careful rendering of the mouse, reminiscent of a young child’s and filled with innocence, the repetitious whimsy of the musical loop, and the bright colors so meticulously chosen by the artist, we may imagine a similarly light or childish feeling upon that central mammalian figure. The writing upon the mouse seems foreign to the whole affair, and, indeed, takes upon itself a similar role to graffiti, acknowledging its environment by standing in strong-headed defiance of it.
Furthermore, we note the flat rendering of the mouse, underscored by the harsh borders which separate it from all other elements of the composition. We view the mouse, then, as an abstraction, we see its artificiality. It could be said that this mouse is no more mouse than it is a symbol of a mouse, a paper prop set up in absence of the real thing. The mouse, then, has no mind at all, and we return to the question of whether the mouse conceives of its bodily scrawl and realize it as a patently ridiculous manifestation of the pathetic fallacy. The mouse, or more accurately the mouse-symbol, does not think, and if we think it does neither do we.
This is thus the fundamental irony of the work, that message hidden so carefully along its outer conceptual edges. We begin to unravel the fiction of the mouse, pulling at the loose thread of the writing on its chest like stray hairs, and we realize that this all is a fiction, of no portent. In a sudden shock, we look up, and begin to wonder why anyone would spend so long writing an internet comment in response to a question proposed in jest inside the game itself. We suddenly realize that this, too, is a fiction and, like the mouse, has no knowledge of itself. We grab hold of this thread and pull and pull hoping madly to unravel the reality around us.
2. Nothing.
3. We walk away from and abandon forever the poisoned honey of video-games. “Did I eat lunch today?” we wonder aloud to no one.
Dear J. Andrews-McNurney,
While I applaud your enthusiasm — you really were one of my favorites — I regret to inform you that I cannot accept this assignment for review as I am no longer your professor — or anybody’s, for that matter — and haven’t been for quite some time.
I’m touched, of course, that you would send it my way, but find it…troubling, let’s say, that you’ve apparently imagined yourself a student again. While I’ve long since forgiven you — really, I have — perhaps you need reminding that you’re the reason I was denied tenure?
I wish you well. I really do. But please don’t contact me again.
Yours, mostly fondly,
Professor Cat
P.S. – I’ve played the game. I understand its relevance to our…situation. But if you have something to say to me, just go on and say it.
current frontpage catamite infestation ratio: 40%
This is a sign that more people need to step up their game.
nah, that’s just the porpy bias 😉
trying for 100 percent