The Accidental Gentrifist - The Remora Culture: Sub-Urban Planning for the Homeless Organic

Editors’ Note: The opinions and ideas expressed in The Accidental Gentrifist are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the outlook or beliefs of anyone else in the Ist network.
The greatest co-opt of Austinite achievement may well test the truism that there is a good fucking reason artists aren't urban planners. It’s called: well, it’s called art.
Villa Muse. Yeah, I get the concept. Reminds me of: “unsinkable.”
When artists or writers congregate, it tends to be a fairly organic affair. Artists live in the world. Kerouac-Burroughs-Ginsberg didn't happen because they lived in a planned beatnik community. Matisse-Picasso didn't start up because they kept running into each other at the Starbucks on their block.
As long as we’re at it, lets cage wind. Lets corral dust.
Come on.
Prediction: Within ten years, Villa Muse will be
a.) a ghost town / monument to titanic folly
b.) a successful, well-financed den of hermetic mediocrity.
c.) remember Villa Muse?
Or: Within 12 years, Blanco/Luckenbach/Praha will be the cool new town for Central Texan artists. You know, to get away from the sell-out plasticity of Austin.
Art needs isolation. Arts needs something to work against. Art needs to eat the food that fell on the floor, because there ain’t no more money for anything but cigarettes and new brushes. Art needs to drink a ¾-full bottle of Cutty Sark and have its stomach pumped in view of its sobbing girlfriend. Who will, it should be noted, probably be the one who pays the hospital bill.
But then, movies aren’t art. At least not when their budget exceeds the national debt of Gambia. And that is what we’re talking about, isn’t it? When we say we want to be “competitive,” it never really sounds like we’re talking about taking the artistic high roads.
Of course not. Because: art don’t play that way. …But money does.
The plan to expand this lead balloon into a “residential community” makes me want to gag on my Vonnegut. But wait: There’s also retail. I know, I know. Just what we needed. The Triangle and The Domain are just chartreuse with envy.
I mean, this is just fucking genius. Austin was a smallish town that nonetheless had a quintessential quality that attracted and retained some of the most progressive and artistic minds. Celebrities could come here and get treated like normal people, often because we were too stoned or too preoccupied with our screenplay-in-progress to recognize them. At any rate, this is not an attempt to galvanize what we had going for us, but rather the latest ploy of many to capitalize on it. Like the disaffected grunge movement. Nobody could really find a way to bank off it, at least not until Ethan Hawke and Eddy Vedder came along. Then the music and film execs got a hard-on so big, it bumped into Kurt Cobain’s elbow while he was cleaning his shotgun.
I’m no stranger to the technological marvel that is the 21st century. But it always leaves me with the same question: With the staggering number of pornographic outlets currently populating the internet, how many fathers accidentally stumble across free video samples of their daughters allowing tribal-tattooed men to do unspeakable things to their no-no holes? I’d imagine the number is larger than any of us would really like to consider. And, I’d imagine, that’s the feeling all you “original” Austinites are going to feel welling up inside yourselves when you return to the post-Villa Muse Austin, circa 2012.
But I guess that’s just the way the world moves. Elliott Smith: Everybody’s dying just to get the disease.
The “cross-pollination” idea is perhaps the most odious to me. The idea that a film or a video game or Best Buy commercial can be made through one-stop shopping is fine, from a technological perspective. But how many Slackers is this going to produce? How Many It's Impossible to Learn to Plow by Reading Books? How many Daniel Johnstons?
Yes, the technological and design and post-production aspects of this Fantasy Island are great. If that’s what you’re in for. Just, please don’t pretend it’s going to be anything other than a styrofoam culture factory on any other level. No one who does 100% of their ‘art’ on a Macintosh has any need of (or desire for) a “muse.”
Nothing has ever been done in the name of art or culture that comes tandem with an impact report citing an increase in property values.
I am completely confident these guys can recreate an up-to-date Universal Studios with all the local charm of the Austin-Bergstrom gift shop— all I’d ask is that you drop the pretense that this venture has any artistic credibility whatsoever.
Austin is a dusty bottle of wine. Villa Muse is Two-buck Chuck. Austin is living with roommates and sleeping on floors for ten years in order to get your band together. Villa Muse is watching a movie about it. Austin is unprotected sex on a sweat-soaked summer night with an anonymous 23-year-old after skinny-dipping in the LBJ fountain. Villa Muse is an overpriced handjob from an escort wearing an earpiece so she can still hear the end of the Tennessee Titans game.
And, shit. Change the name. It’s insulting to those of us still superstitious enough to believe in muses. (Who are real, by the way, and wouldn’t fuck any of the Villa Muse boys with a borrowed vagina.)
VM: Because it’s patently clear you’ve forgotten what a ‘muse’ is, actually, I’ve taken it upon myself to stick up for their honor, chiefly by preparing the following visual:
People Who Need/ed Muses on a Daily Basis:
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