Saturday, August 30, 2008

Towards a New Aesthetic (the half-assed, blogger version)

As a seedling Aesthete, I was fascinated by libraries. Often I wondered, In the world, is there one that holds all the knowledge of all? The answer is, of course, no, not in this post-Alexandrian age. But things have changed and libraries are now as obsolete as Reginald Hardcourt's piece-of-shit '01 Dell. Now knowledge lives in Google's servers (which Hardcourt's computer can occasionally access if one is extremely patient and not working during peak hours) and my boyhood vision of a complete realm of information, I believe, is a reality, albeit a superficial one. Where I once thrilled in hunting down a book or article in the labyrinths of a real cracking library, I now apathetically find the same thing by inputting a few keywords into Google, all while dressed in my white cotton underwear and munching on a really proper sausage.

There was a time when I lived my life bouncing between the inspiring but tiring poles of bibliotheque and discotheque. Now I live my life between Google and Facebook. I have saved a lot of time but I have lost the thrill of the chase (and the amusement of a rhyme). Today, knowledge is an easy destination, and there is no longer a meaningful journey. Indeed it is meaning that has been lost, and I wonder if it can ever be found in this hypertextual rat-race world.

Of course all this meandering has a point--are you bored enough to stay with me? The point is this: We must create an art that does not rely on bookish knowledge but rather requires us to search the libraries of our souls (Yes, I sound like that Texan Twat Dr. Phil here, but fuck it, I have a soul, and I will take it back from the pseudoscientists by any means necessary--if you have any of his books, please do your part and burn them). I hoped here, in this dime-a-dozen blog, to proclaim Intertextuality dead, but of course, not being real, it cannot die; however, it can be proclaimed a concept, a word, and it is exactly that. Let's take the focus off it. Let us not rely on facts and references but rather on the journey and the experience. Knowledge is mostly just showy bullshit anyway. Let's not be so deluded as to think it means anything on its own.


Anonymous said...

Hm. I do miss the joy of running across the silent book-laden corridors of a library..

But, how about this.
Do away completely with fact, and rely entirely upon the imagination, on fiction, if you will.
That is something that can never truly be contained, and there would be no worry of having nothing left to discover.
It's such an utterly ridiculous concept that, by rights, it should work!

That would possibly incorporate your "library of the soul" idea too.

- Chloe.

Anonymous said...

The future of the book is the blurb.

Anonymous said...

..."if you have any of his books,please" shit on it, piss on it, puke on it--HATE it and Spit On IT.

Anonymous said...

"...Reginald Hardcourt's piece-of-shit '01 Dell."

In response:

Blasted cockmuncher - at least I can process words you quill-tipped relic.