Good afternoon, Monday. Oh, it's a week. Already.
I was thrilled this weekend (welll not thrilled because of why) to attend the New York march. It was amazing. Inspiring. Touching. But then I got home and saw all the hate from everyone who were complaining about everything. From rich women who eat good breakfasts to those who felt we should be "happy to live in the best country in the world" and "why are you complaining" and such. And though I could argue my point from here to Kingdom Come, and I will, it seems there's not much point changing the minds of people who are not open, not educated, and selectively watch the news. Because to me, as a reasonable thinking human who has to tie my shoes every day and get on the train and do all the other stuff regular humans do, I just don't get it. Yea, I can get why you didn't like Hillary. Sure, Obama- I loved him but get why you might not have. Sorta. But for the life of me I can't understand how a nation of monkey brains elected Donald Trump. Well we kinda didn't if you count popular votes and stuffs. But we did. And how here he is.
From the joke of Inauguration day (which seemed more like a death march) to the joke of the Inaugural Ball (catch these acts at the Ball and then at your local mall food court or theme park), I feel we have entered absurd times. It's absurd that our President seems permanently dyed orange. It's absurd that his press secretary absolutely hates the press. It's absurd facts have somehow become alternative. It's absurd that the youngest Trump desperately needs a hug and nobody will give him one. It's absurd that someone qualified lost the election and someone completely unqualified one. It's absurd that the rust belt thinks that this man who craps in a gold toilet on Fifth Avenue is somehow their champion. It's absurd that his wife looks like she wants to quietly mouth the words "help me" every time she appears on camera otherwise trying desperately to channel Jackie O. It's absurd that our President mouths the words to "My Way" at his first dance when Nancy Sinatra reminded us very clearly what the opening lines to that song were:
"And now, the end is near".
It must be. And it's every bit as absurd if not more so than a Hunter Thompson ether binge or a Kurt Vonnegut novel or a Tom Robbins bit of prose. A brilliant Aziz Ansari, on SNL this week, remarked that Benny Hill music would be an apt choice to be a soundtrack to this administration. I don't disagree. Needless to say, I look forward to some amazing art and music and thinking in the coming days. We need it. Because it will piss this nacho colored narcissist. A lot.
Because as we ramp up and gear up and rise up against this Cheeto administration, let's use humor and art and absurdity to help us get through these very fucked up times. I couldn't help but think of the Dada movement as a perfect example of how art reflects the times in which we live- for those who didn't study art history in college, Dada was an avante garde art movement that started in Europe post WW1 as a reaction to the nationalist landscape and "upending bourgeois sensibilities". Artists like Marchel Duchamp, Man Ray, Andre Breton, and others were spearheading this movement- a movement whose work I got to see firsthand a few years back at a Dada retrospective at the MOMA, one of my favorite shows in many years for its humor, rebellion, and use of found objects and collage with great success. I loved the incorporation of every day objects to challenge the very meaning of what art even is. In fact and from the same article above, "so intent were members of Dada on opposing all norms of bourgeois culture that the group was barely in favor of itself: "Dada is anti-Dada," they often cried. The group's founding in the Cabaret Voltaire in Zürich was appropriate: the Cabaret was named after the eighteenth century French satirist, Voltaire, whose novella Candide mocked the idiocies of his society. As Hugo Ball, one of the founders of both the Cabaret and Dada wrote, "This is our Candide against the times."
And this my friends, is our Candide. Our very own Candide. So embrace the absurd. Let it motivate you to create, and meet, and shout. We have all wondered what all of this ridiculousness would mean to creativity, and I see great things on the way. Just don't expect them to make a ton of sense. Because we've stopped making that the moment we elected this buffoon to the White House. Welcome to the new Dada, kids. Let's get to making. Because the every day objects and news stories of our lives are screaming to be Dadafied, though they're doing a pretty great job as is.
Cause that's what's up this life is a cabaret of absurdity kind of Monday in the 212. Yours, in nudes descending staircases and all sorts of other madness. Da da da. XO