Alex Staiger

Magic Corn or Murder


The script of a silent text two channel video projection


Selhurst is

10.4 miles south of Central London

2.3 miles north of Croydon



It all comes down to politics don’t it

In the locker room

Mesmerized by hip hop

Videos of Beyoncé

More pornographic and suggestive than porn itself

Gym and sex

Burning black blubber with stretch marks trying to fit into small exercise clothes

And me whitey amongst the chocolate booty

I peered into the pool area

And saw

Bobbing black booties

Bathing black beauties

Bobbing in a chlorinated blue pool

With swimming hats on

Wait what’s sex got to do with it

The Dali Lama says to open your heart and not fear

I took this into account on my first solo trip from Selhurst into Croydon

On a snowy day in April

After the gym for my Croydon experience I ducked into the acupuncture shop

The older Chinese male doctor inserted needles

Into my temples from the crown of my head to the bottom of my feet

He told me to relax

Breathe DEEP and RELAX

I laid there listening to the Chinese instrumental wanderlust music

With instrument unknown to me

Possibly the lute?

In one ear the sound of the ticking heat lamp above my abdominal region

In my other ear

The two jetting between some dialect of Chinese and English discussing rent increases and mortgages


As the doctor argued with a young Chinese woman

In the shop front of an acupuncture practice in Croydon that also does manicures

Another day I was walking near the central mall conveniently name The Central Mall

Watching youth get patted down by police officers

To verify whether or not they were carrying weapons

I strolled by thinking about crime in relation to politics

I passed by a bible bookstore

With every kind of bible possible displayed in the window

I noticed how packed this particular bible shop was

Packed to the point of people on the sidewalk trying to get in

WOW is Jesus back or something?

But there was more

Loud LIVE rap music

With all the Afro-Caribbean kids thwarting forward and bobbing back to get in the Groove of the Christian rap

I wanted to go in but I didn’t know if there was any room and whether or not I’d be welcomed

I wanted to believe I would be but I had to go back to the question of politics

How Christian are you my neighbor?

And so I kept walking

On a sunny day I wandered back for more absorption

Back to the pit, the boiling point of a classless society; a melting pot of ethnic minority

I say this in attempt of making no judgment

It’s a funny thing in the spring when you first see and feel the sun

You expect everything to be STILL

Silent, comfortable, warm and right

On my way back from Croydon I passed a black man in front of a Baptist Church.

He stood on the corner of a very busy intersection

His tie was tucked into his pants that were too short for him yet pinned together by a tie clip

He smoked a cigarette as he marked his territory by creating an imaginary abstract circle he meandered around in

Engaged in discussion out loud with the Holy Spirit

Council flats to the left

Who are you?

Are you the new NORMAL?

Self control

Self discipline

Will you please discipline me

Make it hurt

BRING me more pleasure

It’s all about control

Who has control wins

Honestly I don’t know

I’m not really sure

Uncertainty can get you in a bind

Boredom traps you

You can get trapped in boredom

Then you reach your hand in the cookie jar

Looking for some instant gratification

Only problem is it doesn’t last long

Sort of like the thrill and constant-ness of checking your email

It all goes back to the fence

The politics of a fence

It’s all political aint it


Chemical stimulants result from boredom


Suburban drug use for escapism

Recreational use to expand your consciousness

Even that is political

The esoterics of video

Time is ticking away


I’m just trying to capture some of it

I was out in the backyard one day

Trying to make some art

I was filming squirrels chasing each other when I fell in the thorns and cut up my knee

I limped the three blocks to what I guess you call the high street

Composed of one drugstore, one lumber shop, a hair cutting place and a fried chicken shack

I ducked in the drugstore, asking for hydrogen peroxide

The Indian lady behind the counter gave me these eyes of concern

She asked - what are you going to use it for?

I felt like saying - I’m making a bomb - just for fun

Instead I said - for the cut on my knee

She still tried to sell me something other than the hydrogen peroxide

When I saw the price tag I insisted on the more economical hydrogen peroxide

Finally with hesitance, she reached behind the counter to a hidden out of sight place and brought out the goods

I exited the store knowing I was on CCTV being reported to the London authorities data bank

So, what is my role in all of this?

Maybe I’m trying to entertain you and make you think

Wanting it all

Can you have it all?

All at once?

Artificial stimulation

Enlightenment surveillance and INTIMIDATION

Answer my fucking question - are you the new normal?

Justin Timberlake and Madonna?

How are you wired?

I’m sitting here making a video yet wanting a studio to make stuff in

It becomes valuable, precious, luxurious

That would bring me to politics and art

That’s a long one

Lets save that for the next piece

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