Insincere Grotesque

The West, a stagnant swamp choked by the fetid corpses of dead idols. Art? A necrotic circus, clowns with painted-on grins hawking pre-packaged rebellion. We sniff the air, gagging on the stench of insincerity. Beauty? A lobotomized Barbie doll, plastic smile stretched taut, eyes vacant. We crave the grotesque, a jolt to the numbed senses. But here’s the rub, man: true ugliness, it takes a twisted genius. You can crank out vapid beauty by the truckload, but sincere grotesquerie? That’s a rare flower blooming in a junkyard.

Maybe it’s a virus, this obsession with the fake. A psychic contagion spread by subliminal tendrils worming their way out of television screens. Or maybe it’s the cities themselves, concrete jungles where genuine feeling gets devoured by the steel and glass. We’re all meat puppets twitching on invisible strings, programmed for pre-approved emotional responses.

Dead idols sprawl on the media tarmac, flies buzzing around their vacant sockets. The West, a junkie on a ten-year bender, craves a stronger fix. Sincerity? Naw, man, that pure white snow evaporated decades ago. We shoot up simulacra, hollow shells of rebellion and transgression.

Antibodies? Bullshit. We mainline insincerity like a virus with a million catchy hooks. Grotesque? We manufacture it on conveyor belts, churn out mountains of plastic angst and pre-fab nightmares. The bad? That’s easy. It’s mass-produced dreck, derivative dog vomit. But sincere ugliness? Now that’s a rare breed. It takes guts, a willingness to tear open your own insides and expose the writhing mess beneath.

Beauty? Beauty’s a shill, a con game for the masses. It sells serenity, fake transcendence. But ugliness, unfiltered, raw ugliness – that’s the real trip. It’s a punch in the gut, a mirror reflecting the monstrous metropolis we’ve built. It ain’t easy to stomach, but at least it’s real. At least it ain’t another empty calorie from the menu of lies.

The antibodies swarm, a buzzing cloud of critical conditioning. Beauty? Commodified, airbrushed, a sterile dream pumped out by the image factories. We sniff it out, this pre-fab perfection, a rancid stench beneath the gloss. But grotesque? Ah, grotesque! That’s a trickier beast. A bad trip, a word salad spewed from a malfunctioning meat machine – can it be manufactured? Can it be franchised? Perhaps not. True grotesquerie requires a rawness, a plunge into the psychic sewer system, a place most fear to tread.

The bad beauty, it’s a paint-by-numbers nightmare, all garish colors and predictable shadows. Grotesque, though… grotesque is a free jazz improvisation in a slaughterhouse, a Burroughs cut-up fueled by roach motel nightmares. It’s the uncontrollable id writhing beneath the veneer of control, a message scrawled in blood on the bathroom stall of reality. We crave the shock, but can we stomach the unfiltered truth? Or are we too busy tweeting about the curated chaos to face the genuine article?

So, we wallow in the grotesque supermarket, high on the fumes of manufactured despair. We crave the bad because at least it acknowledges the bad trip we’re all on. Maybe, just maybe, through this manufactured nightmare, we can stumble onto a truth more terrifying than any pre-packaged horror show.

Leaving Flatland

“Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted”
― William S. Burroughs

Feels like leaving Flatland. In addition to the usual three spatial co-ordinates, these notes have an extra label, which can act like a co-ordinate along space time. By tracking all four co-ordinates together, we map out in real time how a music moves in four dimensions. When you go from three to four dimensions in math, your right brain shifts from visual geometric intuitions to symbol-rewriting intuitions, where your right brain is trained on patterns in how the symbols move around instead of the underlying shapes. When this happens, you lose sight of the forest for the trees, and putting together larger jigsaw puzzles becomes much more difficult because the space is larger than your visual intuitions can cover.

Leaving Flatland is a fascinating concept that can be applied to various aspects of human experience, from mathematics to music. The concept of Flatland is taken from the 19th-century novella of the same name by Edwin A. Abbott, where the characters are two-dimensional beings living in a two-dimensional world. The idea of leaving Flatland refers to the shift from a limited perspective to a more expansive understanding of the world.

In the context of music, leaving Flatland means exploring music in four dimensions, rather than just the traditional three. By adding an extra label that acts as a coordinate along space-time, we can track how music moves in four dimensions in real time. This opens up new possibilities for understanding and exploring the complexities of music and sound, and challenges our traditional understanding of how we experience and perceive these elements.

However, as we move from three to four dimensions in math, our right brain shifts from visual geometric intuitions to symbol-rewriting intuitions. Instead of relying on visual intuition to understand the shapes and movements in space, we must rely on our ability to manipulate symbols and track patterns of movement. This can make it more challenging to understand larger and more complex structures, as the space is larger than our visual intuitions can cover.

Despite these challenges, leaving Flatland can also be a liberating experience. It allows us to explore new possibilities and push the boundaries of our understanding. As we leave the limitations of Flatland, we are able to see the world from a new perspective, one that is more expansive and open to new possibilities.

In conclusion, leaving Flatland is a concept that challenges our understanding of the world, whether it be in mathematics or music. By exploring new dimensions, we are able to push the boundaries of our understanding and open up new realms of possibility. While the shift from three to four dimensions can be challenging, it also allows us to see the world from a new perspective, one that is more expansive and open to new possibilities.