passing by ads for a movie it strikes me that the presence of food as something that conceivably rains from the sky means quite a bit, maybe. I say 'conceivably' as in that food is not like buildings or cars or tables, it's quite firmly in the realm of dogs/cats/frogs/money, things raining from the sky being already-made (not readymade) objects flying down, gold coins plopping on asphalt and wet mud alike. money is a good example of something inconceivable, inconceivable as being conceived, not-born but just-having-been-materialized. living organisms are born but the (nearly emotional) awareness of the concept of life is something that's neither gained in the knowledge of the birthing process nor in the biological processes (cell division, blastulation) that occur, the sort of emotional/perceptual distance between knowledge and awareness keeping itself afloat. perceptual distance is a good term maybe, sometimes called fetishization, spatially related to phenomenology maybe, the direct perception of space separate to the conceptual knowledge of the specific form of a space.

and if I know that (real) pork sausages come from ground pork stuffed into pork intestines, that even a relatively humane pork(ing?) process starts with birth and growth and a stunning/shooting/slaughtering and a washing of the blood away on a tiled floor for a good five minutes while someone in an apron and rubber boots waits with grim expertise for the convulsions to end -- and that then comes the butchering and the processing and maybe some washing/treating/marinating and then stuffing and then maybe some curing --- if I know of this process, without really having gone through it, I'm just only the tiniest bit closer to a knowledge of where this food comes from, and the rest is just magical appearances, might as well be growing on trees (but again life is another one of these things that holds this perceptual distance inside it, for us, for me), might as well be falling from the sky. this is the accidental luxury/event of my status as someone who lives in a country devoted to developing certain avenues of living that is devoted to this separation, this distance ('alienation of use-value').

more importantly the image I got instantly walking by this ad was of someone in a different economic/social context marveling at this movie, do they not know that meatballs don't fall from skies, or no rather yes I can guess that they don't literally think that meatballs don't fall from skies but is their relationship to food so precariously conceptual that it's possible to conceive of meatballs falling from skies, and maybe the closest analogy is for us having a movie that's about punches or kisses falling from the sky, not some magic love potion that _affects_ us but the direct object-related reifications of relationships floating down, a greasy translucent blob that sticks to you and makes you punch someone in the gut, in the face, judge I'm sorry but it fell from the sky,

and it's this perceptual distance that, on one hand, gathers up wonder and accumulates it until it precipitates into wonder and awe and excitement and the sense of travel amplified way beyond "eiffel tower" or "tower bridge" into an obsessive focusing-in onto the most miniscule of detail. the other day walking into a friend of a friend's apartment we all had this nugget (ha!) of a conversation with the doorman, enthusiastic numismatist maybe, speaking obsessively about two different companies specializing in numismatic certification. there's a certain refreshingness in obsession, the kind of fulfillment that takes an outline of a circle and fills it all the way to the center, having-thought-all-the-way-through, coming from this distance between understanding what a coin is what this guy feels about it --

and on the other hand this perceptual distance is the maker of capitalizations in the words Art, or Culture, and the corresponding repercussions are too dire to ignore, being confronted with this image to a degree that this distance is denied, truths held to be "self-evident"...