What Is Art and What Should It Be?

     As those who are familiar with the residents of Bloody Nib Manor are aware, we are pretty old-fashioned. We are not as much 1950s as we are 1880s in our outlook on life. We don't like new things because they are new. The only reason we like new things is because they are more useful than the old things. We have a hot water heater because it's more convenient than boiling water on the stove, and we use electric mixing machines instead of egg-beaters because it makes life easier and thus, gives us more time to write angry letters to the editor of the local news rag signed signed, "Angry in Dorsetshire."
     Being pretty much a cultural Philistine in matters of art, this writer does not claim to be an art expert. He only knows what he like, to use the old trope. Your faithful correspondent's taste in art ended with Bougerou. While the lovely Lady Nib in not to awfully fond of much modern and post-modern art, but she is more sophisticated than this writer.
     Recently your faithful correspondent heard a piece on NPR (National Public Radio, or as some call it National Peoples' Radio) in which the film maker John Waters was interview. The man is a silly man. and worse, he is a silly homosexual man. He is, in a sense, almost a caricature of of a "gay artist."
     In the interview Waters, without realizing it said two antithetical things. He said that the job of the artist (is movie-making an art?) is to offend the artists of the previous generation in order to "break barriers." But at the same time he said that the artist should, in  a sense conform to the norm while trying to undermine it by being part of it. As is not unusual among homosexual men, he is a conflicted man. One day he loves Marilyn Monroe because he thinks that she's the perfect tragic woman ( gays love tragic women) and the next he loves Rock Hudson because he's just an awful hunk.
     But to get back to the point. The question is: what is art and what is the purpose of art? The classical idea, going back to Aristotle, is the idea that art should show beauty and express beauty. It doesn't matter is the beauty is found in a woman, a man, a landscape or a war scene (and, yes, there can be beautiful war scenes; the effort of man against man can be a lovely thing, as can be a man working with a machine). But since the proclamation of "Art for art's sake" we, have been inundated with what is, in fact, forms of masturbation put on canvas with every "artist" thinking that his artistic orgasm is breaking the walls of the art that went before. And because of this nonsense we have had to put up with, well, a lot of ugly nonsense that nobody really wants to put up their living room wall and look at when the television is broken.
     The first image is a deKooning thing. The second is a Bougerou. Which would you prefer to spend time looking at on a winter's day? Which reflects beauty and which reflect something else?

         

The Heart of Darkness

     Earlier today your faithful correspondent made the mistake of writing on Facebook a rather long piece (for Facebook) about the evolution of the footnotes and introductions of various editions of Conrad's "The Heart of Darkness."  There is no point in re-plowing what was written since it is easily found on the Facebook.
     But the reason for this continuation of this writer's thoughts about the novel and the various introductions and footnotes on this platform is simply because Facebook is a platform that seems to be intended for people of machines to intrude themselves into places that they really do not belong. For example, the post on Facebook was written about the novel "The Heart of Darkness" while mentioning motion picture versions of the novel. Not an hour later there was a reply from a person or bot who was more interested in films and not novels. This writer is not a great writer and not a deep thinker, but he does not appreciate being a toll of crass commerce without his permission or without payment.
     It is this type of thing that makes one wonder if the heart of darkness, spiritually and ethically, is not on the Internet and not in the Belgian Congo over one hundred years ago. The Belgians went for ivory. The modern hunter goes for clicks.
      But to get to the point. "The Heart of Darkness" is one of those few novels from the early 20th century ("The Flying Inn" by Chesterton is another) that one is able to see something that the author saw and what the author saw that was not just of his time, but for many years ahead.
     And what did Conrad see? Simply this: it is dangerous for all concerned to try to bring up (and this writer uses the term "bring up" as an ethnic European and ergo, by modern thought, a racist) other cultures to the level of Europe or the United States by intruding into their cultures. To do so ruins both cultures. The trade becomes the savage in order to get his product onto steamer or into airplane. The missionary bends the Gospel to fill his missionary church and thus distorts the Gospel and makes it something that his home church would not recognize. The United Nations sends forces into a benighted nation to keep peace and the "peacekeepers" perform acts that they would never want their mothers to know about, let alone God if he could be kept ignorant. And not only useless killing, but rape and pedophilia in an industrial manner. Consider the the liberal who loves every damn body. Soon after hearing a bitch from a Palestinian about how Israel rocketed that man (whether true or not) the liberal is anti-Israel and is calling Jew murderers on the level of the Nazis despite the fact that more Palestinians kill one another than do Israelis kill Palestinians.
     It's all too easy for a missionary, a trader or an adventurer to fall into the ways and mores of those who that person once considered benighted by Fate or God and become those things that they once hated or fought against while, at the same time raging against what they have become.
     That's the Heart of Darkness. And the last words of Kurtz, "The horror. The horror" are words that are all too often muttered by those who are guilty of those intending to do right while falling into barbarism

Be Eye Own!

     As those regular readers of the musings and drooling idiocy of this writer are well aware, Bloody Nib Manor, while being a part of of Edwardian Britain, is, unfortunately, actually located in Southern California in the 21st century. It's not always an easy life to live. It's very difficult to find a proper Norfolk jacket or grey bags, parts for the old Alvis, or proper cook who can make cockie-leeky soup instead of pozole for Sunday dinner (meaning lunch). Life and place march on insisting on taking us with them despite the fact that we've buried ourselves like ticks into the fabric of our world.
     When the lovely Lady Nib's younger brother, Marquess Edward, was a very small child his his sisters, being just awful young chits without the benefit of being raised by a governess with a good, stout leather strap to discipline them, used to tease the Marquess mercilessly. In his frustration with the cruelty that only pretty girls are capable of he would shout out, "Be eye own!" Then the sisters would collapse into helpless laughter while making sure not to soil their petticoats or mess up their curls because they knew what their brother was trying to say was, "Leave me alone!"
     We here at the Manor find ourselves more and more often shouting to the state of California and the citizens of the state, "Be eye own!" We are weary of being governed by a nosy-parkers who think that they can live our lives better than we can while the state cannot even manage to maintain the roads and dams of the state. The infrastructure of the state is falling apart while the governor dreams of a high-speed rail system from Los Angeles to San Francisco that, if ever built, will be used by very few of the citizens. Most people would rather drive on the crumbling highways or fly because the former is cheaper and the latter is faster.
     During the November election there was a  state proposition on the ballot promoted by the awful and panicky Stanton ("I will save you from yourself!") Glantz, America's most well known anti-tobacco crusader and busy-body, that would implement a $2.00 per pack tax on a pack of cigarettes, the proceeds of which were supposed to go to health and education, but actually would go to a bureaucratic unionized and useless bunch of state employees. The tax increase would also apply to e-cigarettes, chewing tobacco and snuff, pipe tobacco and cigars. Part of the argument for the tax increase was saving the "innocent" from second-hand smoke despite the fact that there is no second-hand smoke from e-cigarettes, chewing tobacco or snuff.
     But the voters of the state, being not loath to tax something that may be not especially dangerous to them, but is unaesthetic, voted for the proposition. On other words, using the same lack of logic that they often do, the high-speed rail is an example, voted in favor of the proposition and the result was that on April 1 the cost of a pack of cigarettes went up to about $8.00. And the cost of e-cigarettes and all forms of tobacco went up also because of the tax. The voters saw the tax as a cash cow for the health of the populace, but what they will see is a reduction of revenues because there will be more of the black market products sold. Consider this: If a smoker decides to take a trip to Las Vegas or Reno to gamble why would that person not stock up on a lot of cartons of Marlboros or pounds of Prince Albert to bring back to Seal Beach for his own use and the use of his friends? It happened a week ago. And it will happen more and more.
     Now, be aware that the lovely Lady Nib, Scarlet Woman that she is, is a cigarette smoker, and that your faithful correspondent is a pipe and cigar smoker. We know the dangers of the habit and we accept the hazards of the habit. We just want to be left alone by the state. And because we are responsible citizens and not on the dole in any way, we have private health insurance, so we don't cost the state for our nasty habit. We want to be left alone. We want to leave other people alone. But there are people who just can't keep trying to tell other people how to cook their omelet. And those people should probably be either sent to New York City or hanged from sequoias.

Time to Turn the Calendar Back?

     We here at Bloody Nib Manor have always tried to be as kind as possible to the various animals living on our extensive estate. We have treated our various cats and dogs, birds, the odd cow, lamb or pig with the utmost respect even before we milked them or slaughtered them to make a delicious fried chicken, pot roast or ham or lamb chop. The idea here at the Manor is to treat the animals that are to be used for food of one sort or another kindly because, not only are they animals, but because they are animals that are to be killed after too short a life or animals that will be expected to lactate on demand. That is the way of the world. Man is, by nature, an omnivore and not an vegetarian or vegan
     Recently PETA has come up with an ad campaign that basically says that the drinking of milk is a symbol of white supremacy because, well, milk is white and ethnic Europeans drink milk and ethnic Europeans are white. Ergo, accordingly to their logic, the drinking of non-human milk is racist because Europeans drink cow's milk. But they forget that Mongolians drink horse and pony milk and many ethnicites drink sheep and goat milk. Your own dear correspondent, once weaned, had to spend a deal of time drinking goat's milk before he was able to drink cow's milk as a child.
     And here, finally, is the point. PETA is a silly and stupid and dangerous organization that has become mainstream because the news media, after sloughing them off as a joke or extremist, has so infused the news media with their nonsense that the younger reporters believe what the organization is true. And the reason that the younger reporters believe what PETA claims is true is because the colleges that teach journalism have not taught critical thinking. The colleges that teach journalism teach the cutting and pasting of press releases. And this is a dangerous thing.
     This writer remembers when PETA first started and when it was considered an extremist animal rights organization. At that time PETA billboards of pictures of fried chicken on a piece of china and called it Holocaust on a Plate as if the deaths of chickens were equal to the deaths of six million Jews during World War Two. Or make such claims about the fur industry with silly glamour models posing in furs with blood dripping down from the furs. And let this writer admit here and now that industrial farming is not a pretty thing. But neither is plumbing, road working or being a coroner.
     The result has been, while that there is no reduction of customers at the local KFC, the fur industry has taken a hit from PETA's campaign and it has resulted in the loss of a lot of jobs in both fur animal raising, fur processing and the production of various fur garments. It has gotten to the point that when an actress shows up at a premiere for her new movie wearing a ratty old fox fur stole that her grandmother bought sixty years ago PETA calls the poor girl a killer of the worst sort; almost a Himmler. And the press reports this seriously because the people in the press have not been taught to think because the people who taught them did not want to teach them to think. They wanted them to become reflections of their own nonsense: In other words, two legged stools bitching about three legged stools.
     Here's the point. Thirty years ago things that were considered silly and stupid are now considered the norm. Not because they make any sense, but because the media says that they are of import instead of just damn silly and stupid. If we at the Manor could get some young female (and it's usually a female) just out of journalist school to cover the annual sausage rolling festival (because it's ethnic) here at the Manor your faithful correspondent would not have to work any more and just take in the cash from the idiots who think is's a stand against The Man.