pining for uplifting culture...
culture shapes our destiny.
We are in need of smartness. Desperately. Desperately seeking smartness...
We've lost the plot. We can hardly see beyond the next trinket to buy, though we believe in fairies to make up for our lack of understanding. So far, after many centuries of trials and errors, we have ended up in the "modern" age, now using our endeavours to promote the god of cash, while being submissive to a tummy tickle from the spruikers and advertisers.
Possibly we never had the plot to loose. We possibly never were prepared to understand a skerrick of relative reality, as we were educated through the prism of Santa Claus and religious dogma.
Is this the best we can do? At every turn of what we mostly do, we need to sell our adopted interpretations, our obsolete usefulness, our ability to precisely count cash and our idiotic thumb-numbing gadget manufacturing so we can survive amongst each other, primordially mercantilly or by sanctioned robbery... There comes something called the cultural value factor which reaches great heights with some artistic expression, but seems to crawl like dust under the beds when we go shopping. Most shops do sell pre-prepared goodies that will shape our next acceptance of stylised mediocrity and dust-gathering ability.
Most cultures (especially Western) have compounded the ability to create things that have no other purpose that to glorify our adopted narcissistic desires and grand follies. Ordinary folks (cobblers, peasants, soldiers), formerly used as fodder by the rich (king, nobility, churches) have continued the tradition of glub, by replacing their own ability of rich expression they suppressed, by the latest god — consumerism...
A space to live was more than a hut, for the rich... Castles are the signature of an inequality of subjects in a construct that has bred people in specific station of life, not by nature but by systemic imposition — using culture as a weapon and an oppressive mean.
At various times in history, some of us managed to escape the treadmill, but Voltaire is long dead and his flame is hard to keep alive under the constant assault of comfortable inanities that stop us asking the right questions.
At this level we need to look at the plastic toys we're amusing our kids with... It's frightening... Equipped with this inane relationship, it will be quite difficult to steer them towards a more enlightened and complex elevated understanding...
Most kids aren't dumb... Most adults are. Adults become dumb... Adults usually destroy their own ability to be creative by becoming submissive in a system where challenges are geared to succeed in being submissive, despite appearing to be participating in individualistic choices. We are individually submissive — even the rich farts, who in some way submit themselves to supply crap in mass quantity to the masses. There are the exception though, those of us who provide unique luxury goods, but who are tempted nonetheless to provide "exclusive" luxury goods on a larger scale to make a bigger profit... The perversion of the mind has gone to a extra level. Some of us might do some exciting things like flying a killer kite or jumping from a plane with a flimsy parachute — but long has gone the time to play monkey-bars without a safety net or a lawyer taking notes on how to sue the purveyor of the apparatuses.
Imagine people like Mozart developing a sense of complex music using multicoloured plastic cubes with no sharp edges... Music ain't going to happen... Dull sounds might come out of the toddler throwing the bizos against the wall in disgust possibly in step with the inane rap music blaring deconstructed words to a numbing rhythm from annoying fools, or as a challenge to the proximate adults who childishly and naively think it is proper kiddy entertainment by demonstratively stacking the cubes according to colour and/or stackability.
But the kids have mastered the plastic cubes in three seconds flat and continue to play with the damned things because they have nothing else to interact with. After a while they become hooked on entertaining boredom — like we are on booze and cocaine — and their inquiring genius is permanently erased from their brains. We think they are evolvingly learning something. Unfortunately, they are become dumb like us.
Most people who become geniuses, despite some dull or rebellious moment with formal education, would have started with a bit more than playing with tinted extruded hydrocarbon polymers, unless they asked questions about their atomic bondage.
Take an orphan, Anne-Louis Girodet de Roucy-Trioson, for example. Boy, his name itself is a mouthful, slightly feminine for a male — and compare your kid's education with plastic cubes to Anne-Louis penchant for philosophy, literature and voluptuously sensuous ladies as a young kid... Hum... He soon became a painter with an extraordinary vision for the plasticity of the human body, especially that of the female kind.
But Anne-Louis Girodet was mischievous as well and understood the dynamics of people's readiness for "prostitution" or for the sales of anything to get cash, power, glory or flattery. Better known simply as Girodet, he excelled at creating the detailed illusions commissioning-people wanted, with lovely twist of discreet satire in a style designed to be at the utmost of exquisiteness and skills.
Skills are a rare currency these days. We have skills, sure, but compared to the skills of a Johann Gottfried Büring, industrially we're still making thatched roofs or buildings with hubcaps...
These days, the displayed nudity would be forcefully demanded to be covered up with clothes because of the wowsers — including those who can't bear women breast-feeding in public... Same with Jean-Antoine Houdon's works. His lovely delicate sculptures border on the eroticism, even those involving adolescents... He would be taken to court for indecency and thrown in prison...
Most of these works do not make it in our ordinary repertoire of present cultural references. We have fallen into the inane and the democratically mediocre. Not because democracy means mediocrity, but the providers of our information use mediocre easy channels to sell us plastic cubes, especially those that amuses us, the adults... These are designed to make us forget we have the ability to feed ourselves, beyond the macculture shiny standardised lighting system to which we react, like Pavlov dogs...
We need to think we can do better, smarter and with more dedication than going to the hamburger shop for a treat... Yeah.... Advertising would not be itself if it had nothing to sell...
Of course, the exclusive beauty of some objects d'art were reserved to the elite who could pay well for the singularity. Uniqueness has a price and we all cannot afford it. We get copies... cheap copies... Pity. The consolation though is that consumerism has raised our ability to acquire a variety of standardised uniqueness. You know what I mean: the same thing comes in different colours. The cubes have different polishes. And we place them in different spots in our homes.
Yeaaaahhhhh... This seems to be the way decent young positive people respond to statements that make sense in our own minds... Yeaaaahhhhh... But are we stating the obvious to these newer smart arses, are we misunderstood (possibly we don't know what we're talking about) or are we dismissed with a charming smile for bothering them with a thought?...
One never knows.
We are in need of new smartness. Desperately. Desperately seeking new smartness...
Yobboville has its problems, including a latent short cut to happiness via booze and laziness, though there are people in Yobboville who understand the theory of relativity, unlike most ministers in the present government...
Yes, we need relativistic yobbos, engineers, scientists and artistic minds in government — we don't need lawyers, accountants nor "charitable cyclists in tights". We need inspiration and joie de vivre... not crap from those dour Bernardis bent by religious fanatic fairly land.
(And Tony Abbott is an idiot for fouling the truth)...