Art critics, Wes Andersen, and the theory of evolution.

Well, I never been to Spain, but I sure do like the music, and the Spanish girls sure do know how to use it…

…Don’t worry, I’m not about to bring these three topics together, I’m just about to rant. As the Three Dog Night record spins, I’ve got some things on my mind I’ve been mulling over for the past few days. First of all, I was furniture shopping the other day for my new apartment and I started to think about art and music, and my own perspectives on these things. Now, you must understand, furniture shopping is a very nostalgic experience for me. Why? I’m not entirely sure. My theory is that there is such age differences between myself and my siblings that I can remember furniture shopping for their apartments during almost every phase of my life. It’s just a way to clock phases and periods of time. Anyways, I was thinking about how I used to blindly accept and love whatever alternative piece of “art” came my way when I was younger. I am looking back bitterly on it, because I realize most of it sucked or was mass produced. Now, I’m not saying I won’t sometime reject the pieces I love now. That’s how I work. My feelings of affection for anything, be it a painting, song, or a woman, often change in a volatile fashion. What I am saying, though, is no matter what came my way, any painting, any photograph, I could find something to love about it. Sure, this sounds great, but in the end of it I never knew what I actually liked. I think now what justifies art, and what makes it legitimate is if someone fucking hates it. Despises it. Art isn’t something we enjoy, it’s something that challenges us. Now I’m not claiming to know what art is, trust me, I’m not. Here’s what I’m saying;

I had this professor last semester. A real asshole. He went on one day about how terrible Wes Andersen was. He said he was trying too hard to be different, or replicate something indie. I love Wes Andersen. I didn’t appreciate this, but it certainly made me question his work, and ultimately realize the things I love about what he does. If we’re not challenged, we become ignorant, and we forget what we’re about, ya dig? Also, this professor, he loved Ingmar Bergman. Now hell, I know Ingmar Bergman is an incredible director. Probably better than Wes Andersen in terms of influence, but I honestly can’t stand his work. I think he sucks. I think he’s boring, and I think he never did anything that Renoir didn’t do before him. My professor liked him because he had some kind of hard on for anything Swedish. Now, although I hate Bergman, and hate him probably even more because this ass liked him, I can still respect him, and can respect my professor for liking him because he was able to justify his obsession with legitimate points. Hating art is great. We keep ourselves in check and we find a little understanding for each other along the way.

As far as evolution goes. I read that Darwin believed in a higher power because, although he could account for many changes and biological responses that humans exhibit, he could never account for why some people like certain things, and others don’t. He knew that a sunset was pretty, but he couldn’t account for why he thought that. He said it was something delivered to us from above our evolutionary status, as opposed to something we brought with us from the bottom. I like that. In fact, I love it. It’s nice to know that we remain complicated and undefined by science.

Side 1 is done. I have a terrible stuffy nose. I have a fever, as well. Things are looking up, though. It turns out my boss at the unnamed, major television network happens to be a beautiful blond in her early twenties. Perhaps I will find some work ethic after all.