On "Art" Bred of Resentment

I've said it before -- in so many words -- and I'll say it again:

Nothing is really new in art and life. Some modern strains of chaos-worship have been stated, pasted, and spit before in other times when the progress of many threatened to make the angry philosopher and control freak obsolete. It's all just Dada in the end, but the gimmick has outlived its non-usefulness. "Creative" insults against the progress of liberty coughed onto canvass or streets or funneled to ears deaf to beauty. Fortified by mind games and theories of a hundred -- at least – neo-Marxists (mostly French and German for some reason) offering no more than a place to play for pampered brats from the ungrateful caste. A place to play for the middle class rebelling against itself; they fancy the sandbox most filled with litter...and the ugly sounds of their own breath as it barks chastisement to all that is decent.

In all things, let real rebellion rein and let the anti-creativity spawned by Marx lie in the dust bin of history that it was justly sent to by souls of more noble purpose.