As a child of the 1950s and ‘60s I cannot help but see flashes of Vietnam in Empire’s latest – hopefully its final – military expedition(s). Social media platforms and television propaganda maintain a persistent numbness. Institutional and individual indifference breeds a hunger for bread and circuses, football, Disneyland, talk shows and star-spangled “influencers,” who excrete toxic slime from every crack and crevice. The system now occupies every square inch of terrain. Bureaucrats, bored out of their minds, nevertheless read the latest memo from Washington directing street operations programmed to steer the “hive mind” hither and yon, round and round, to a place called nowhere.
It’s hard aimless work averting eyeballs — already robbed of their gaze — day in, day out, away from the wretched, inhumane global slave quarters and killing zones where pillage of the last untrammeled forests, grasslands, and scenic vistas produce commodities and emerging, synthetic “Green” markets needed to keep the insatiable machines, financial schemes and meaningless political simulations from totally melting down. Down this road is one logical end: suicide.
Taylor Swift sings our national anthem. Who cares? Not me, for sure. I have never much cared for her work, but music is personal, so I don’t imagine many agree with me. And anyway, there is this, which has always troubled me:
In a post below, I noted that the map below, which is really part of an art project, depicted the Great Pacific Garbage Patch as being a mere smudge on a satellite image of the Pacific Ocean off the coast of South America.
Fiat money has been in existence in the U.S. of America since 1973, the year Pres. Nixon removed the nation from “the gold standard.”
So, why are we stuck in pre-1973 thinking about how the federal government spends money to achieve its political (foreign and domestic) agenda.
I have attempted to write about this topic, with little or no reaction from POM readers. Let me try another tact. How about another author with a similar message, and some examples that might awaken the hypno-ape masses? See: Mulga, Japanese artist; http://mulgatheartist.net/en/shop/?post=267.
It’s never a matter of being able to “afford” health care or a “pay for” a retirement program that keeps us from eating out of dumpsters. It’s a matter of whether or not Congress can find it in its greedy, self-serving, soulless existence to give a shit or not. Obviously, we have a lot of work to do. Patience, grasshopper.
I am just passing time here, trying to offer up new material for daily readers. The Columbine piece has absorbed me. The details are engrossing – they meant for that piece of professional mind-f***** to be deeply embedded in every kid’s head in the country. Today I have a rather pleasant task, watching Michael Moore’s Bowling for Columbine, this time with eyes wide open. Moore is filthy – that is – Moore is controlled opposition, which is why we even see his movies. True subversives don’t make it to mainstream theaters. When I first watched that movie, I thought it interesting, I thought he was unfair to Charlton Heston, and for sure did not know he was ‘in’ on the Columbine hoax.
In the meantime, I want to re-post a comment from the Hampton’s piece below that grabbed my interest. I will leave off the name, but the comment is public, so re-posting it is OK, in my mind. If the writer objects, I will take this piece down. Here it is:
This demonstrates that creepy art is not confined to Denver International Airport. This particular piece is near apartments and condos in Sion, Switzerland. Children walk by it every day on their way to school.
Take note, if you are an adult, of the genetalia. This creature obviously just arrived on a space craft. Have a nice school day, kiddies! Try to get that image out of your mind!
Has anyone else noticed how much bad art is around us? It is not just creepy statements like this piece, but landscapes that have no depth or definition, cityscapes that are nothing more than vague impressions, and sculptures that seem to be yelling out at us “Look at me! I am confused!” I understand that some art is impressionist, and even admire much of that work – it imparts warmth. But so much of what I see is a step beyond, the artist full baloney notions that he does not have to communicate anything, that it is up to the viewer to impart meaning. That is nonsense.
I used to go to art exhibits when we lived in Bozeman, where bored and over-moneyed men and women had their own studios and painted the many expressions of the fruit bowl or cabin in the woods. That is just practice, I realize, and they might well be on their way to doing quality work. The stuff I am talking about, like this piece above from Union Station in Denver, is finished art. Our RTD people probably paid dearly for it, and all who walk in that building pay dearly too.
Another blogger is intrigued by the occult, and this is what greets people going to and from Denver International Airport. At one time the Denver Broncos thought their mascot would be on display, but this disturbing blue horse with flaming red eyes turned up instead.
Part of the sculpture fell on and killed artist Luis Jimenez in his studio. Weird!
I have heard rumors of DIA having a Satanic theme to it, and honestly, the murals inside are disturbing. But that is nothing compared to that godawful pony that greets all visitors. What were they thinking?
Incidentally, this is what greets train travelers at Denver’s Union Station, the hub for the local rail system. Is it not amazing what an artist can do with a couple of bottle openers?
I don’t know what is up with Denver’s public art, but I have to guess that rather than Satanic overtones, we are simply a repository for overpriced bad art.