Sunday, February 1, 2009

You are a museum of irrelevance.

1. We see you.
2. We know who you are.
3. Your ideas are worthless.
4. Your aesthetic is stupid.
5. Your “technique” is a welter of narcissism, superstition, and habit.
6. All your little tiny ideas, all your whoring attempts at creation, and you yourself are nothing, nobody wants you, we despise you, it’s in our nature.
7. You should be kept as a pet.
8. You are a Philistine, the Paul Bunyan of decadence, an acromegalic fraud.
9. You are a minnow, a speck, a stain.
10. The genre humain is sick, and you are to blame.
11. You are a necrophiliac.
12. You are a museum of irrelevance.
13. It will take years to make Art vital and important again.
14. You are from this moment forbidden.
15. As the Italians say, Parla quando piscia la gallina.
16. We are here now.
17. Our aesthetics is empirically grounded.
18. Our taste will be raised to principle.
19. You and your band of jays will be flushed out.
20. Yes, Art is resurrected today: Victory is ours!
21. History will forget you and salute us.
22. Here you are, and here is oblivion.
23. This is the final manifesto, and the only one.

-- Joshua Mehigan

Pictured: Little kiddos at the Louvre. For more ranting, click here.


Lemon Hound said...

These are great. I can't wait to use them in the classroom--I like to start the year by having my students write a manifesto so they can see how it might change over the course of the class.

michael robbins said...

Yes, this is a completely awesome poem/manifesto. & Franz Wright needs to memorize it. (Hast seen relevant thread at Digital Emunction?)

brian a j salchert said...

 1. No you don't.
 2. Are you God?
 3. I have no ideas.
 4. I have no aesthetic either.
 5. Technique. Hmmm.
 6. Good.
 7. Naa.
 8. Some combo!
 9. In a bottle.
10. Of course.
11. Does this mean I'm in love with myself?
12. Museum?
13. What Art?
14. Every moment forbids me.
15. Ti.
16. Thank you.
17. It's also grounded for other reasons.
18. Bodacious buds.
19. We're not where you think we are.
20. Enjoy.
21. History?
22. At last.
23. Z.

bajs from bajs

Anonymous said...

When you're fifty and one of the host of middle-aged people who have long let go of the artistic affectations of their youth, my father and I will be there on bookshelves for a new and hopefully less whiny and envious generation--remember this,watch and see if I'm not right.

Anonymous said...

That is unless "blog owner" declines to allow my comment to appear, which would hardly surprise me.
Blog owner will remember what I said.
What a marvelous word, blog--it sounds like a combination of fog and vomit. You ought to be spending your time working, as some of us have been doing every day for four decades, you arrogant maggot, hiding behind your your computer, that hive (90% of it) of anonymous boys and girls who who can strut and boast but will not elude, finally, reality--real life will be kicking the shit out of you pretty soon, don't worry. What have you done, even now? Let me see the work, not your empty words about it. FW

Lemon Hound said...

The latter comments really make me worry about the future--not only of poetry.

Don Share said...

Dear FW,

I don't know if you're addressing all this to me or to Mehigan, whose words constitute the blog (marvelous word) post above. He can speak for himself, but I'm glad you brought up the subject of working.

Nobody better lecture me on this subject. My grandfather worked in a ship yard and later, till he was about 80, was a taxi driver. My grandmother worked in a department store and then, till she was told that she was too old to work anymore, was a clerk in the welfare department. My father, when as child, got sent home from school because he had newspapers on his feet instead of shoes, which his family couldn't buy for him. In my own life so far, I've had jobs like cleaning out dumpsters for a fast-food restaurant, unloading produce from trucks, being a janitor, and driving a van. When I lost my home in my early 30s, I worked as a busboy and toilet cleaner for Cybersmith in Harvard Square; maybe you had a cup of coffee there back then.

I feel my age, alright. I just had a CT scan and am having more tests this very day.

Everybody has troubles, pain, aggravation. I agree with you that there are people hiding behind their computers (believe me, I hear from them), and that real life's gonna catch up with those folks as it does us all. But sorry, I don't feel good today and I can't always figure out whose words are empty. All that said, I'm glad to have you here and you can say any damn thing you want to.

If this sounds too pissy or sticks in anybody's craw, I'll delete it when I get back from the doctor.