Mar 15
It must have started with the radio, right ?
Because I just don't see how books could have done it.
The plays of Shakespeare and others
they don't feel anything like what is happening now.
Art has been reduced to a product since, who? The first ?
Buddy Holly?
Dressed, measured, Berry Gordy-fied, then packaged and sold with no regard for its substance. (A little old white lady actually came up with most of the stuff Berry stole from her.)
Do we just need something to consume so badly that we will consume anything? Or create something supposedly new just for the sake of calling it new?
To try and capture the energy and emotion of music—with heavily distorted guitars, not just thrash or metal.
The failure of poetry in that regard. No matter what you write , or how you write it, It just can't do that.
When we look at what mediums we use to express what ideas.
Now think of it like sculpture. It’s about what is absent as much as what is present.
And we know that it’s NOT a motion picture.
We don’t put our ear to a book.
( So many years on stage, trying to convey different ideas to an audience. I’ve seen incredibly talented people play to a bar or club with nothing but empty seats. Conversely, like great poets and writers, I’ve seen talentless hacks. Idiots. Complete jokes. Vacuous, hollow windbags—like Taylor Swift, Britney Spears, Justin Bieber. I could go on and on. Pretty much every single K-pop band in existence.)
( I would rather drive a slow-moving chainsaw into my eye sockets than admit that could even possibly be close to something like music. That’s how disgusting it is to me.
But that’s not what I came here to say.)
The idea is the expectation of the medium.
Do we know or truly respect its limitations?
If so then why the constant comparison ?
This is the betrayal: not just of the artist, but of the medium itself. Music should shake the soul.
Poetry could cut to the bone or elate ,enlighten etc.
Art should leave something behind—a wound, a revelation, a moment that lingers long after it ends.
Something.
Anything.
Other than “Gee, I’d like to bang that.”
And yet, here we are, watching the weightless and the witless take center stage, their noise drowning out what was once meant to actually communicate
to
endure.
Do we fight against the tide, carving meaning into a world that often refuses to see it?
Or do we simply create,
knowing that the truth of the medium
the essence of what it was meant to be
will outlast the frauds who cheapen it?
Because I just don't see how books could have done it.
The plays of Shakespeare and others
they don't feel anything like what is happening now.
Art has been reduced to a product since, who? The first ?
Buddy Holly?
Dressed, measured, Berry Gordy-fied, then packaged and sold with no regard for its substance. (A little old white lady actually came up with most of the stuff Berry stole from her.)
Do we just need something to consume so badly that we will consume anything? Or create something supposedly new just for the sake of calling it new?
To try and capture the energy and emotion of music—with heavily distorted guitars, not just thrash or metal.
The failure of poetry in that regard. No matter what you write , or how you write it, It just can't do that.
When we look at what mediums we use to express what ideas.
Now think of it like sculpture. It’s about what is absent as much as what is present.
And we know that it’s NOT a motion picture.
We don’t put our ear to a book.
( So many years on stage, trying to convey different ideas to an audience. I’ve seen incredibly talented people play to a bar or club with nothing but empty seats. Conversely, like great poets and writers, I’ve seen talentless hacks. Idiots. Complete jokes. Vacuous, hollow windbags—like Taylor Swift, Britney Spears, Justin Bieber. I could go on and on. Pretty much every single K-pop band in existence.)
( I would rather drive a slow-moving chainsaw into my eye sockets than admit that could even possibly be close to something like music. That’s how disgusting it is to me.
But that’s not what I came here to say.)
The idea is the expectation of the medium.
Do we know or truly respect its limitations?
If so then why the constant comparison ?
This is the betrayal: not just of the artist, but of the medium itself. Music should shake the soul.
Poetry could cut to the bone or elate ,enlighten etc.
Art should leave something behind—a wound, a revelation, a moment that lingers long after it ends.
Something.
Anything.
Other than “Gee, I’d like to bang that.”
And yet, here we are, watching the weightless and the witless take center stage, their noise drowning out what was once meant to actually communicate
to
endure.
Do we fight against the tide, carving meaning into a world that often refuses to see it?
Or do we simply create,
knowing that the truth of the medium
the essence of what it was meant to be
will outlast the frauds who cheapen it?
