Here lies a monitor projecting the sights & sounds of the 21st
century zeitgeist,
an unfocused, fast-cut montage of the systematic sacrifice of
individuality for the benefit of the collective individual
(a bipolar, pudding-like pushover anthill of unearned
inherited free will)for us to watch like reality television while driving reality cars
and eating reality pizza and reciting simultaneous
reality monologues loudly enough to ignore the realityreality;
and we, the cynical offspring of the "me" generations, we
negate the essence of a work of art (created by no
one and paid no attention) until it is no longer art, just
a thing that does what it does like any modern person.
The montage is beautiful fireworks and schools of fish and a
great flying monster that gobbles up the stars,
and we keep our distance at all times.
We avoid the world, but we call it art;
we ignore the art, but we want to be artists;
art never started a war;
art never fed the race.
So here's to it (hats off, glasses raised), this monitor that
shows us our strongest power and our deepest flaws,
we send with it a little piece of ourselves as we watch it floataway.
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MODERN THINGS - Poem by Bil Gaines
