And who are we to so confidently assume that our 21st century morality is the greatest yardstick to measure all other moralities against? Classics are to be read precisely because they’re the echoes of peoples that are now completely alien to us. And in my view, the mark of something truly beautiful is not how diligently it intends to school me on morality— it’s the revalation of a TRUTH. If its brilliance blinds me, so be it. It can be a hateful sermon of filth & violence— so long as it’s beautiful & pure & conveys something that connects me to that which I find myself disconnected from in my mundane, day-to-day life, I’ll be satisfied with it. This isn’t to say that great art can’t contain a decent, instructive morality. But is it necessary? In my view, not at all.
May 9, 2024

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The most delicious irony of this post is that the relevant generation's (Millennial and younger) typically sophomoric relativism reflects their actual paradigmatic consumption by postmodernism, which more accurately dictates, not only art, but everything is moral, and thus perpetually locked in political battle. Of course, I'm post-pomo alien conspiracy spiritualist so fuck humans and your base thoughts.
May 9, 2024
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I think art performs better not when it tries to be moral but when it tries to explore the human condition around morality. If anything, art is a culture’s attempt at survival, and we should listen to that shout into the void. Get to know that bygone iteration of human society. Books or artworks that come off preachy are seldom loved (in my opinion).
May 9, 2024
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i love your first point!!! i'm sure in years to come that people will look back on what we consider to be modern/contemporary literature and argue against all the things we think to be morally correct right now. and even so, like you mentioned, a text can be technical and wonderfully written in spite of that. i also love the idea of using these books as time capsules into a different world. i think we're so incredibly lucky to have this much access to art from times before our own and it would be such a shame to lose sight of that for any reason at all. i also love the way you worded everything, your perspective was a treat to read
May 9, 2024
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raisingirl thank you. It‘s an interesting question, really got me thinking about what I value in writing
May 9, 2024

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There's a thing that I notice at art museums sometimes. Someone wearing a slightly annoyed expression will be speeding through the exhibit like they are going down a long to do list. Or I'll be playing a board game with a group and there will be some guy with a strained face looking like they'd rather be anywhere else. Maybe another time we're leaving a movie and they start to complain about how it 'wasn't realistic', you get the picture. I swear to God it makes me want to pulpify their face. I'm not saying that you need to like every piece of art or that you should feel bad for not liking a movie, but, goddamn, at least give it a fucking second. Closing yourself off to The New, being automatically opposed to earnestness when it appears, is one of the most damaging defense mechanisms I can think of. It is, in turn, also one of the best ways to maximize your misery. The defense mechanism that is cynicism, turns its users into parasites of the Social; they are sold the idea (a lie) that damaging and denigrating <<something>> allows one to become independent of its power structure. On the contrary, just as a leech is the most dependent on its host, cynics are those that are most dependent on the power structures in our culture.  I really want to emphasize the difference between criticism and cynicism, because I am in no way saying that we should not criticize bad or damaging art, but to successfully criticize something means to first buy in, to really allow yourself to be taken by a piece, to examine it as it comes. Buying in as a term (even one so bathed in capitalist sebum) is the right one in this case because to buy in requires one to make a sacrifice. You cannot experience art without opening yourself to the possibility that it will do damage to you. To fully allow yourself to be moved by a piece of art is to allow yourself to be cut.  But inside that cut is what it means to be human. I think the single best way to combat cynicism is an unceasing curiosity of the world and the people in it. The normal and common of this world is absolutely fantasmatic if you take a moment to examine it; we see the world through have fluid filled orbs made of meat for fucks sake. The fact that there is anything at all, the fact that you and I exist for even a second is an absolutely unbelievable mind fuck, and to be unimpressed by any and everything doesn’t make you special or better than anyone, it just leaves you on a road to the pit of despair and leaves me really bummed out for the rest of the night.
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i feel like it’s this constant debate but the thing is? there’s millions of artists/musicians/etc out there, so i find when you want to hold on so tightly to someone, you’re closing yourself off from other artists that could be similar or way cooler but not a terrible person obviously there’s a distinction between a faux pas, mistakes before growth, or being deeply consistently horrible, but i absolutely think that’s a distinction worth making… we only have so much time on this earth, and our time to consume art and music and film and literature is fleeting, so i’d rather spend it on the works of people who have earnestly made the world a more beautiful place and exploring art to find those !
May 20, 2024

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This is a confession post, not a recommendation, not even much of an anti-recommendation. Tbh it reads like a humilation ritual. Honestly just keep scrolling; it's not worth reading. I'm just posting it because I think I had a point when I first started writing this, one which I lost pretty wuickly. But I spent a good couple of minutes typing this all out, so I'll post it anyway. Thank God I'm anon. If you do read it, please forgive me. My friend Tyler brought a joint to the super bowl party last night. He handed it to me & told me about how it had weed diamonds in it while I smoked, he told me that it was some good shit and that I wouldn't have to smoke so much of it since I've got such a low tolerance & all, but I could also smoke as much as I liked, seeing as he had a bunch more & that it was the super bowl & we had a bunch of wings on the way anyway, so might as well smoke some more weed so you know what? yeah, i smoked some more weed since what's the harm anyway it's just weed after all. I've been a mess all day. I've been slow & stupid & disgustingly horny since I woke up this morning; but really honestly since I smoked the weed. If you're one of those types that "actually becomes more functional when you're smoking weed" & that I should "just let people enjoy things" I don't know what to say to you. I'm going to be weird for 4 weeks now and it's all my fault. This happens every time. Even when it doesn't turn me into a non-verbal paranoiac nutcase, even when it's enjoyable to me in that moment-- I become something lower than a beast. I stand over the platter of chicken wings & gorge until I am sick and then I gorge even more. My stomach becomes distended & my face and fingers are covered in thai curry buffalo chicken fat goo. I waddle around & fart & I find this very funny. I confuse the sound of my own voice with that of my younger sisters & this is incredibly disqueting to me. Do I really sound like that? I become a big confused overgrown fat baby. I'm going to be be weird for four weeks now. Slow. I was supposed to meet up with my friends to watch Luka's debut for the Lakers. I'm stitting at my desk typing this up; procrastinating going to the gym (which I can NOT neglect [especially after my evening of spiritual obesity]) & the game starts in 5 minutes. Stupid. Typing out this confession right now is painfully difficult. Every word that I type has the appearance of a whitehead that can't be popped to me. This textbox full of blemishes so infuriatingly, stubbornly, immutably DISGUSTING. I feel sick just reading back what I'm writing here. Once again, if you've made it this far, forgive me. This is a confession, not a recommendation. Disgustingly horny. This one I won't elaborate on. Forgive me. It's not because I smoked weed. The smoking of the weed was just the first movement in a sequence that had already begun before I'd even accepted the joint from Tyler. My own spiritual weakness is the mantle upon which all of these failings hang. I'm not this way because I smoked weed, I'm this way because I'm the type of guy that smokes weed even though I know what it will do to me. There are 999,999,999 other weeds in my life that I am all too willing to permit myself. I haven't eaten anything but bread & butter all day. The lakers game is starting soon. Off to the gym I go.
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