We
U.S.-ians are seduced by cold corporate capitalism in its best, warmest
disguise; the dream of consumerism and convenience. The glitz of entertainment,
the pursuit of pleasure, the treasure of stuff all conspires to keep
us from noticing that the culture has ceased to be about anything else
but our consumption. Our lifestyle is fed to us from the top down by
multinational corporations. Theirs are the only voices on the airwaves,
the only choices in the elections, the only energy we can buy and the
only food we can consume. They enforce the menu of beauty and heroes,
tactics and toys. They create a spectacle that induces a trance that
allows us all to indulge and mindlessly over-consume with no responsibility
accepted or expected from anyone for the emptiness at the heart of the
spectacle. It's hard in these times to get any good, focused anger going,
but it's very, very easy to get depressed. The side effects of progress
are despair and alienation, a constant need for newness, numbness, and
a real incapacity to see or feel beyond ourselves, here in Fortress
America.
We
live inside a ruthless and arrogant empire; restlessly and relentlessly
we paw through the world, destroying cultures and species, decimating
nature, craving, craving. Our craving drives wars and keeps us from
imaging peace or anybody else's reality. What we call normalcy is impossibly
unsustainable and morally unacceptable. What does democracy really look
like, beyond the hype of "freedom," the wars against "terrorism," beyond
the divisive and useful phrases, like "United We Stand" and "God Bless
America" that substitute for what real freedom could be, for what real
terrorism is?
What
can save our souls and our culture? Not force. Not technology. Only
the imagination. Essential to our survival are spontaneous acts of free
minds. Only these can break the trance that ropes us down to the rusty
railroad tracks. We can un-spin the knots that hold us here before the
train of imminent doom smashes our freedom and our world to dust. We
can escape through the redemptive power of stories we tell ourselves
and each other. Images of different paths and expanded prospects, tales
of right relation can save us, if we can imagine them and step into
them in time. We can spin reverse spider webs that will set us free.
Art is crucial to liberations.
The
questions are simple: How to love this world? How much is enough? How
to begin to give back as much as we take?
Vox
Feminista presents a show about culture jamming. Predicated on radical
theories of social change, culture jamming describes the need to interrupt
the spectacle, to wake up, rise up, and get up off our asses and our
knees. We offer an abbreviated map, a taste of the world to come, some
suggestions for how to break free of the trance. How does culture change?
Why do people want what they think they want? How can the voices of
peace and sustainability get through the roar of the status quo? Culture
jamming is about meme warfare.
A
"meme" is a unit of information that leaps from brain to brain.
It's a concept, a logo, a tune. In the US, our ruling meta-meme is that
the corporate driven marketplace delivers happiness, prosperity, and
freedom to all. There's been no competing mass vision since world war
II. Ideology is more important than armies to maintaining empire. In
this show, we create a new ideological vision that can stand against
the eco-cidal, obese, post-Microsoft, internationally monopolized, genetically
altered, crap saturated, globally melting, revenge soaked, nuclear,
plastic, and chemical modernity.
"Pirate
the Possible: The Empire Walks the Plank" lays bare the empire.
The show opens with artful deconstructions of consumption. We follow
up with an in-depth introduction of: The Possible. We unveil the Trance-Ending
Handbook, a treasure map of how to begin to reclaim our culture and
our lives. The greatest lie of empire is that there's nothing we can
do to change it. Vox explores our legacy of resistance beyond the corridors
of power, in a pirate consciousness where outlaws draw new designs for
sustainable, satisfying, and joyful rebellions that push the empire
right off the plank.
The
cast is a crew of pirates, and the ship of state is in mutiny as Vox
Feminista returns to our 16th year of comforting the disturbed and disturbing
the comfortable. Vox's pirates check out the possibilities that dance
in the vast chasm that hangs between self absorption and self awareness.
We explore new ways to measure progress and success, question the inevitability
of expansionist empire, and reprogram the doomsday machine. Turns out
there is such a thing as a free lunch.

cast & crew