We Call It Art
We call it all art nowadays.
Plato and Aristotle would have no part of it.
Miley Cyrus is like a Chair on a stage, just twittering on hind legs,
marionette to popular trend and marketing ploys of men in sweaty,
bulging suits, in dark towers somewhere.
But we call it art and it is shit and we put it up on the shelf
next to beautiful music and the very rot of it carries. It does.
We expect kids to grow up and think and reason,
when the bleached sugar cane that is shoddy, thoughtless,
base exhibitionism and objectification is fed to them, from day one,
long before they can possibly develop taste, we dis-place their buds.
We expect a plant to grow when we urinate on it daily,
starve it from any sense of contrast between homogenized sales
and what a million real musicians etc work toward;
to be taken for the merits of their craft. Not their looks, or sexuality.
And we put right next to all of those hard won records,
any old thing doing any old thing. It can be total cultural appropriation,
stifled and quick edited for MTV-teat-weaned expectations,
and we will fight for the merit of it,
while gigging, serious artists, are struggling everywhere.
Gaggling around a teen who can barely keep her shit in the public eye,
like vampire photo hungry zombies, and then calling it her right.
What a fucking joke. That’s like fighting for a slaves right to more slavery.
Arcade Fire. That is music. That is at least something you can get behind and support.
We give kids the fast food of a thing, then wonder why culture is so bankrupt of
any kind of mature, decent mainstream art.
We poke at a fire and wonder why we sleep with burnt feet.
It is ridiculous. It is absolutely a clogging of the arteries of culture and media.
And it is just sort of sad, too. It’s not maybe immediately tragic the way a riot or
an assassination is. But it festers. It is like saying: here-
here is a million dollars for your exhaustive “art” and,
and then we will pay women in strip clubs a fraction of that,
and they will basically do the same thing,
and we will call one art and one indentured servitude to patriarchy.
And tell that to our sons and daughters.
By creating a mass media that shouldn’t be learned from.
And social malaises which should.
And expect them, in their first scenes, to discern between them.
And the real, real. That although it’s every person’s right Not to be denigrated by proxy
of ridiculous objectifications, or thought of as only flesh. Chatelaine magazine is no less culpable.
Nor any slew of advertisers. Because now you’re fucking with art.
This is where youths should be able to go when they have shitty parents.
When they have no parents. When they’re young parents. Anything.
And they should have the chance to bring themselves into a higher state of consciousness,
a better self-theory. Something. Not to associate art with wholesale pop porn.
This is not a good thing. We cannot seriously undertake altering
the male, neo-liberal underpinning, if we are still letting our vital source
become tainted at the mouth, alarm yourselves. Be angry it has gotten this bad.
Artists deserve better, kids, people in broadcasting deserve to make a better product.
And Miley Cyrus deserves better. Get her to Julliard or something. And fuck Nickelback.
Fuck senseless art. It ruins our chances at bettering our chances, and our future.
Those we are entrusted to watch over.
To aim, like Gibran says- and not bother to try and control.
America has always had this fascination with anybody getting to the top,
and it is the best thing sometimes about her.
In this case the most valuable artist would be a beacon of skill,
but also cultural consciousness. Someone like Bjork. Patti Smith.
If our greatest were truly our brightest, if by our tact and nature
we were only allowed to be judged, this would never be a problem.
The entitlement of fame and the American Dream of capitalism
which freebases the drug of fame, then pumps it unflinchingly,
into the crucial, unforgiving veins of creativity itself.
If art were still held separate from the greedy spying eye of those suits,
then we might not have this problem,
and artists could better channel assistance, effect social change.
This superstar thing makes music ugly.
Julliard should operate like some kind of work camp for privilege to check itself.
They should run a detox privilege program.
Courses might explore the nuances of appropriation.
How you are actually insulting sex workers world wide
by imitating what they are forced to do for pocket change.
Like some over-paid, under fought boxer
who gets outrageously enumerated
whether he tries, or says fuck it.
Art should be better than this.