Three days later… minds are made for swiping, and that's just what they'll do, and one of these days – or three – Swipe's mind vomits all over you #inthemostbiblicalsense
The Haus' directorial debut finds none other than Laurie Ann Gibson yet again at the helm…
My name is LaurieAnn Gibson; I'm choreographing Lady GaGa, and today the choreography is outta here – and Lady GaGa is assassinating it. We've taken over the dance; we are the dance – you already know: Lady GaGa. LaurieAnn Gibson. LoveGames. #kanyeshrug 2009 y'all: stay focused kids.
Backtrack/Fast forward:Kids, get focused – 2011. Judas. LaurieAnn Gibson. Lady GaGa. You've been known, minds stay blown; they live the dance, they Lord the dance – and Christ, stop asking, they still don't need pants; but on the Jesus tip – Lady GaGa is assassinating Him. Today the choreography is outta here - culturally speaking: metastratosphere; she's choreographing Lady GaGa, directing a movement, baptising newborns in blacklight, revving up a revolution on the pages of a motorcycled diary – her name is LaurieAnn Gibson.
BlinkkIt:Thank God GaGa said "Judas" isn't a Biblical interpretation, that it's a cultural statement, and religious art… makes life easier to blinkk when all you're meming is scene…
#AllDayIMemeAboutSceneIn the most biblical sense: the message is in the mania, the record is regurgitation, though you may not know what, why, or for what – if any – reason He calls: you don't hang up on God at 2am, you call it like he scenes it
#mindvomit"Judas" is a brilliant motion capture of GaGa the Pop betrayer… and really it is just a cultural snapshot #inthebiblicalsense of a zeitgeist… like Judas, like Jesus, like Germanotta…
We have allusions towards all things forbidden past, present, and future… the taboo tapestry: Gypsy Romas, Romeo + Juliet, Black Jesus, White Judas, unforgivable false idols… Gangs of New York meets Gods of the New Testament… The sonically scriptural tattoos: black leather studded sires and sirens beneath heavy metal veneers, cowhide coutured metallurgists embodying the falsely idolized, sacredly slain Golden Calf. The scene is what it means: it's a Purgatory Penitentiary for Bad Biblical Bitches… The Elizabethan Era meets Stanton Street, and curbed on the cross streets rests the corpse of celebrity's false idolatry… Hellacious angels cruising along the coast, GaGa in tow… Year 3 Bonnie and Clyde: the disdained damsel riding shotgun with the dynasty, as GaGa straddles Luciferian Harleys like a honey bee out of Hell's highway… the detailed diva, and the devil in the midst
"Video Phone" angles building the hype, visually muting all doubt. No longer imploring, but insisting you stop calling her, "Telephone" runs through this antiquated take on slain Pop gods, from choreography, cinematography, and scene cuts, to the conceptual scene itself – celebrity worship to the most biblical extent…
… and at the core of it all is the bacchanalia, renaissanced artistic revolution: Fellini's baroque fantasies – the rendezvous of our motley crew… baptizing the cultural renaissance through humanism: the estuary of social brackish – the religious and the secular merged together to create a new movement: Israel and Italy meet, the Old and New Testament, Magdalene as Boticelli's misunderstood mistress, Parisian Jesus, Romeo Christ, and Mary Magdalene Capulet… timeless tales interwoven… and at the heart of it all we have GaGa's self-referential greatness… it's a Bad Romance, it's a Bath Haus where dirty boys go to clean themselves up… same story, no time or space outside of the Haus – that inescapable time and space void of twain… time after time reiterating her own betrayal – hearkening to the past three years of this beautifully dark twisted cinematic romance…
It is the ultimate in humanism – in creating a new race she is focusing on cultural humanism: merging religion with secular thought; Shakespeare and scripture channeled through GaGa, as she literally writes herself into history, and weaves herself into the Classics; the rebirth of culture through humanism – an evolved human versus, and vindicated through, the death of the mass celebrated, and the self, through the human condition. This constant perpetuation of life, death, and rebirth is as much a piece of human social history as it is the focal point of GaGa's cinematic anthology… "Paparazzi" where she resurrected to avenge her own death and slay her murderous boyfriend, "Bad Romance" where she roasted her master bedside suitor, "Telephone" where she dropped the world #serialandrepetitiveSundayMassmurder, "Alejandro" where she once again became the slain martyr, "Born This Way" where she emerges reborn – albeit a badder free bitch than from whence she began but reborn nonetheless; and, of course in between birth and death we have life – where we find GaGa just wylin' cuz she young… just dancin, pokerfacin, with the beautiful dirty rich free ones…
The perpetuated polarity… the water: just as that rock can build a house or sink a dead body, so the water that washes away the sacred stone too has immense juxtapositional power – to cleanse and kill, to drown one's sins, sorrows, salvation, and self alike…
GaGa is becoming a self-contained circle of life #priderock As far as stories go, tis the long endured tale of the hidden miss, forever the victim of her own compassion… as in the end she alone perishes for her inability to quell her own passions; because she cannot kill the demons of her human nature, the angels of her better nature cannot live…
"Just want to touch you for a minute… maybe three seconds is enough for my heart to quit it…" and here we are at the third's second, "Judas:" the third album's second single… and neither GaGa, the game, nor the goons have quit. The third's second: Judas' kiss; once again betraying the prophecy fulfilled. GaGa's own self-made prophetic Fame, all but guaranteeing her departure by the third second. We embarked in a LoveGame with GaGa as our Pop piece du jour, as much as she embarked on a fatal ride on Fame's demonic disco stick. We had a universal understanding that no Pop star of GaGa's calibre, controversy, kitsch, presumed Jesse-Camp-crazy would last past a first second – much less a second first, or a third anything outside of a lost bet; but three years later: the crazy became socially sane, the clandestine became commonplace, and the sinner's anthem has become the cultural signature – even Jesus officially loves Judas. So it is, and here we are… so beautifully forsaken by she who staked said claim…
Three seconds after the committed kiss – GaGa remains to betray her own made Fame: celebreality slain Watch This Space: Lady GaGa entered the public consciousness through the Pop channel with self-made, self-paid, self-affiliated Fame as the starting point. We obliged; understanding through sapience, the defining characteristic of said Fame: its inevitable fatality. Three seconds would be enough for her to taste the beautiful life, and more than enough time for us to leave her by the way side… like every other Famous fad… like Britney, like Bayside. For Judas to "not mean anything" – it means everything; for it to "just be a piece of religious art" it has a lot of symbolism. If God is telling you to put something on a screen – you don't need an explanation. You don't question God at 3 in the morning; it could be 3pm, 3 days later, 3 betrayals, 3 years, decades, or centuries later until you go "hm, that's what it means:" you don't have to know what youre doing as you're doing it – you just know that it's good; and in time it will reveal itself – and that's what her work has done. If you make something good, and timeless, and classic - and *good* in and of itself you'll be fine… and that's what she's doing. As GaGa wrote herself into fame, catalyzing a career literally with The Fame as a self-scribed jumpoff, the mutual agreement was that after three seconds she would – at best – honorably bow out at the fifteenth minute… and yet, as the clock infinitely strikes 15:01 here we are at the third second – still in love with Just Dance, and sinfully wed with Judas… baby.
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