'Let's be honest. this show is basically and advert for B.I.G. (Build it Green, NYC, address, phone #) B.I.G. is this amazing place in which people who are dead or else merely rich give up their kitchens and televisions and soft-cover books and LP-records -

- wait -

- give up their styrofoam-painted granite counter-tops ($100) and working televisions ($30) and soft-cover-books on the Japanese Sex Trade ($2) and LP-records of Polka music from Hawaii ($3).

And their Conan O'Brien bitching about Jay Leno set ($300) and their door from School of Rock (1/8" thick - $200), and their collection of fake carcasses from that movei with Angelina Jole and Brad Pitt that no-one knew existed* ($200 each) and their long, wooden bar with no particular provenance that is impressive in its own right ($1500).

And then you've got those people who line up outside the B.I.G. metal gate in the cold mornings of mixed-use-neighborhood Queens to be the first to claim the newest find. And the daily afternooners diligently ammassing their incomprehensible collections. And the artists who have to strap this stuff to their bikes, and the contracters who don't. And me. And you. And that guy from the New York Times.

But, here's the trick:
If you swap out the 'B' and give it an 'A'**, you start to notice a little something else in all that stuff.

It's not just where the stuff came from, and where it is going, and why it is being bought used now. And it's not just the often contradictory values being placed on the flows taking place*** of goods and services and product within market and people with individual fetishes that somehow amass into a B.I.G. uniform direction of capital.

And it's not just the stories attached to the stuff that gets lost and sold and sorted and bought and moved and loved and forgotten or regretted and forgotten or used and forgotten or (really merely taken for granted which isn't the same thing but feels just as devalue-ing) and then lost and remembered or remembered and sold and moved and -

It's the fact that after all we can't really explain why the economy works any more than we can gravity. Sure, sure, sure: Nine meters per second per second. By why does stuff that is not touching want to touch? Remember: gravity is not down, it is towards the most attractive thing around us. Or really- it is the struggle between the different attractive things around us: the sun and the moon and the earth all work together to make that feather fall.

So quietly.

But just as fallen as a brick.

But enough evocative phrases without real conclusions.

EVERY WEEK FROM FEBRUARY 12 TO MARCH 12, 2010, B.I.G. (BUILD IT GREEN NYC) WILL CART A TRUCK LOAD OF HOUSEHOLD AND THEATER AND TV-SET AFTERMATH INTO THE CONFINES OF JACK THE PELICAN PRESENTS, WHERE IT WILL UNDERGO TRANSFORMATION ACCORDING TO CRITERIA CHOSEN TO EMULATE THE FORCES THAT DRIVE THE ECONOMIES OF STUFF IN OUR WORLD.

ON POLICE COP DESKS.

and, listen, tiny little island with 4 appendages: everything is not either about the hipsters or wall street.

You'll see.

*you know, that one.
**A.I.G. WTF.
***being placed vs. taking place
****we left off the extra 'o' for savings