I’m fortunate enough to be part of a truly impressive collective of like-minded artists who value blank over this other…
Actually, no, but I hang out with a cadre of assholes who have a blog and a thick, serious rep around town called Dude Life. Tonight I posted my first piece of writing there, about the Shane Oneill debacle (tiny inside joke). It’s about skateboarding specifically, but generally about payment for digital content, and shifting paradigms of consumption and a certain Scientologist’s fingers playing through the hair of the industry. It’s called “Three Dollars.”
I’m just back from the Banksy movie, too, after which it occurred to me: here’s an alternative to Dave Wallace’s famous suggestion about sincere, artistic anti-rebels freeing us all from irony’s tyrannical grasp. Which is tossing a grenade into the whole sincere-ironic discussion, obliterating the distinction completely. The result, for me anyway, was a stange floaty headache and desire to lean over the mall atrium’s railing and spit.
More soon. If you want a rundown on the Shane Oneill thing just ask.