Friday, November 24, 2006
He who laughs last ...
Hey, kids -- remember way back when the lower forms of life in the wankersphere were cackling with glee over the misfortunes of the Dixie Chicks? Well, you know it's not nice to gloat but ... what the fuck.
And here's a little something to celebrate with:
I figured it was only appropriate.
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2 comments:
Excellent article by Blumenthal. Wordsmithing doesn't get much better than this:
Kitsch is imitative, cheap, sentimental, mawkish and incoherent, and derives its appeal by demeaning and degrading genuine standards and values, especially those of modernity. While the proponents of the faux retro style claim to uphold tradition, they are inherently reactive and parasitic, their words and products a tawdry patchwork, hastily assembled as declarations against authentic complexity and ambiguity, which they stigmatise as threats to the sanctity of an imaginary harmonious order of the past that they insist they and their works represent. Kitsch presumes to be based on old rules,
but constantly traduces them.
Yup. Kitsch as pathology. One has to look no further than the oeuvre of a certain craftsperson from Delisle, Saskatchewan.
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