Solid Block of Ise

You know what I really, really don’t like? Well apart from a whole lot of other things then…

Well yes, I don’t like that either…

No, what I don’t like is pretentious art that has a pseudo-suicidal theme to it. See this photograph for an example.

There’s a variety of reasons why I find this type of “art” offensive.

The first one is that I’ve been in the darkness. I know what it really is like to be suicidal and to not want to live. There is no way that you –yeah you, I’m looking at you, you tiny little spoiled teeny-boppers who think you’re emo and that your mom doesn’t understand you and you sit in the mini-van and like, text your friends about how, like, totally intolerant your mom is– could ever understand the anguish that depression is. It’s not trendy, it’s not cool, it’s not emo. It is pain beyond anything your small mind could ever imagine.

Secondly, it’s such a cheap way to elicit emotion. Art is about peeling away the fabric of something and finding the inner core, your own inner voice. It’s not about cutting yourself with cheap razors, taking a picture of it and trying to shock someone. That’s not art. It’s a cheap and easy way of attaining instant “depth” in your “work”. It’s also bulletproof as far as criticism go, because no one dares question the heart of your work. You get immediate and complete immunity from any scrutiny. Sure, people will still think your art is pretentious amateur crap, but everyone will be way too politically correct to dare say anything.

Third. Almost all of this generic depressed garbage is so bland that it makes me want to gouge out my eyes with a spoon. Seriously, do you really think that someone who’s actually REALLY depressed has any desire to express it through a photograph, or a poem, or some other tacky means of vaguely artistic merit. Sure, I agree that art is pain. It’s like giving birth to something. You can’t have a birth without some pain. But crap like this is just insulting to people who actually have pain inside them, people with genuine issues and not some spoiled brat who’s acting out so her mommy will understand why she needs a Mercedes for her sweet sixteen.

Yeah, I know that I’m one very tiny voice of intellect inside a huge shitstorm of insanity that is sweeping the globe and has been for the last decade and a half. Whatever. You wouldn’t comprehend what I’m saying even if it bit you on the nose. Go back to watching MTV and soaking your brain in retardation.

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