Arts [1] [2] [ftr1] [ftr2] [3] [fuck]
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fuck Season III 1 I suppose Pop Art's lost on a generation of kids who grew up with Andy Warhol refrigerator magnets and Roy Lichtenstein placemats. But fuck that - there should be more to primary colors, corporate logos, and wartime comics on canvas than's allowed for in the kitchen. So for all you kids running in and out of List Art (I'm staring at you, HA86 folk), take a fucking look at those frames on the wall. You not noticing the work is not the same thing as ignoring it - it's a damn shame when you discover something worse than a philistine: a non-spectator. Art doesn't get much easier than comics, even when they're not really comics. Push your luck; there are no grades here. |
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2 Too much coffee makes us all a little jittery sometimes. A little kooky, you know? So does the wrong kind of music. It gets you spooky kooky. And what's the moral behind this little story? Don't try to pawn off an espresso machiato to someone if you got Tortoise blaring on the jukebox. That could really freak them the fuck out. Who knows what might happen? Maybe they would jump over the counter like a rabid spider monkey, pin you down with a huff of Amazonian blend coffee breath, and rip your Chicago math rock heroes right out of the means of consumption. Mental note: better stick to the Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood if you know what's good for you.
3 Again we find ourselves within the dull, senseless, miserable experience we call life, pushing our Sisiphian stone up the hill of desperation without knowing why, all set to the deadening dirge that is contemporary commercial music. So we do what humans have always done in the face of existential crisis: we throw our hands up to the sky, do a little dance, and pray for salvation. According to the music press, consisting of magazines mired in an endless dirge of unintelligent imitation, that salvation will come in the form of a handful of garage rock bands mostly from New York, with the Strokes leading the way. These bands, we're told, will rise up the way Nirvana "did" and overpower the mindless crap on the radio. Problem is, most of these bands are mindless crap that no one really buys, and Nirvana didn't do half the shit MTV says they did. But all this, of course, is about something bigger: Jesus. No one really believes in Jesus anymore, that we all know, but we believe in Nirvana - or rather, the image of Cobain & co. put forth by a still-money-hungry corporate spin team. Well if it has to be that way, then let Jesus shine, whether through the iconic imagery of the pieta or through the iconic imagery of a steadily declining Nick Valensi. Amen. |