Writing outside one’s own identity is called fiction writing.
This should go without saying.
Naive and/or intersectionalist realism faces a conundrum when it comes to the Little Women film.
Saoirse Ronan is Irish.
Emma Watson is British.
Florence Pugh is British.
Eliza Scanlen is a Roo.
Compulsory intersectionality and naive realism suggest they are unfit to portray “American” little women. Some type of cultural appropriation is going on here. It must outrageous.
Art does not bear the burden of truth, it bears the necessity of being art. Art is only untrue when it ceases to be art.
Jacobin magazine says Jesus was a revolutionary. That would make the Catholic Church the Communist Party of antiquity.
Paul would be Lenin. Constantine would be Stalin.
American Evangelicism is convenience store Christianity. It is clearly the most hypocritical sect among the world religions today.
Conservative America was always rancid.
It will be a miracle if Trump doesn’t meet Ethel Rosenberg’s fate.
Don Jr. is the Sonny Corleone of the Trump Crime Family.
Julian Assange’s Russian peeps are coming for Chelsea Manning.
As Assange’s patsy, Manning had no choice but to cooperate. While the celebrity hacktivist/GRU agent dined on gourmet empanadas in a posh Knightsbridge townhouse, Manning was locked up in a military prison, subsisting on a diet of baked beans and Wonder Bread.
I knew the MyPillow guy was a whack job.
AOC was certainly better prepared, more focused, and more composed than Tlaib.
Artists have no responsibility to do anything but make art. This autonomy is precious and should not be sacrificed for philistine purposes.
Yellow vests (gilets jaunes) are a creation of the GRU (like many European “populists”).
Jeff Beauregard Sessions preferred FBI agents covered in white 700 tc sheets.
Nancy Pelosi is the virtual POTUS.
What if boredom were an aesthetic principle?
What’s more perilous than masculine incompetence?
Has Fox News ever told the truth? About anything?
It’s the beginning of the end of digital journalism.
The removal of the Waterhouse painting in Manchester is only another black eye for the city.
I recall a time when religious fundamentalists sought to ban photographs by Robert Mapplethorpe because they were “pornographic.”
Only a philistine would demand that art be moral.
Curators need the “creator” to sell to a public which is addicted to celebrity. They’ve sold the artist, not the art, for a long time. Hence, they remain behind the times intellectually for financial reasons.
The public, and the journalists who write for it, were never were educated in semiotics, structuralism, modernist aesthetics, etc., to begin with.
I remember when a man of the cloth called for the “extermination” of the Sex Pistols.
Arendt never apologised for being Heidegger’s lover.
Althusser murdered his wife, but no one demanded the New Left Review close its shop.
Épater la bourgeoisie.
Dickens gentrified Grub Street.
He wrote to the popular taste — which at the time was in thrall of sentimentality — and thus diminished his literary art.
Dickens did create iconic characters: Tiny Tim, Scrooge, Oliver Twist, the Artful Dodger, Uriah Heep, Wilkins Micawber, etc.
The idea of the writer (the novelist) as an artist, initiated by Flaubert and formalised by Henry James, only gained traction in the second half of the nineteenth century. By the time Joyce and Woolf arrived on the scene, the now self-conscious, serious work of literary art had become inaccessible to the popular taste against which the British modernists waged an aesthetic war.
Frontality is passé.
Sadly, gun ownership in America has gone from being a hobby to an addiction. Promiscuous gun laws only promote the addiction.
The 2nd amendment was especially important in areas of the new nation where slaves outnumbered free persons.
Neither Brexit nor Trump nor Sanders will/would fix the economy. But false hopes die hard.
It’s not news that journalism thrives on conflict. It’s not the business of journalism to create consensus. However, it should be the business of journalism to offer reality-based reportage.
The rise of Mr Sanders is less surprising than the ascent of Mr Corbyn from the unvisited limbo of political oblivion.
A beige or straw colored suit doesn’t work for Mr Corbyn. It makes him look even blander than he actually is. However, as a post-Hegelian materialist, he doesn’t understand that, in politics, appearances matter. Mr Corbyn would be helped by a reading of Kant’s third Critique as well as a new Burberry wardrobe.
Both Sanders and Corbyn should take their sartorial cue from the French left, which has always been stylish.