The articles I've read so far on Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake have fallen into a little neat heap of similar analyses. Don't we just love to put things in teensy boxes and cover them with plastic labels? Ah...That feels better.
And the conclusion is: They were paranoid freaks that lost their grip on any sort of reality. (Oh. But they were really interesting). There we have it. Good as Done.
One more thing: Theresa Duncan could be really difficult. Like I mean totally really difficult.
Look I don't know and I never will whether Theresa and Jeremy were being harrassed by the Church of freaking Scientology. But I do know something of the ugliness of human nature. I know something about how easy it is to call them paranoid. NOW. They're both dead so they can't defend themselves.
I have no doubt whatsoever that my beloved Theresa could be difficult. She was an artist and an intellectual, damn you! She's meant to be provocative and challenging. Did we all expect her to be "nice" and polite and sweet to everyone did we? Oh shucks.
Get a life. She had things to say.
One of the 14 million reasons I loved that woman and her blog was because she had edge and a sharp one. I just adored her for that. I always knew that I were ever to be so honoured and lucky to meet her, that she had the potential to scare the shit out of me. THAT'S A GOOD THING. Her intellectual edge invited me to stand up and meet that challenge. That's called divine opportunity in my language.
The lilly-livered, packaged conclusions that have been drawn about this woman, attempting to do the impossible (explain human complexity in about 9 nine sentences), are falling short of doing anything but making me want to hit someone.
TD pictured in New York. The Present in New York Is So Powerful The Past Is Lost on Wit, 21 November 2006.