Modernity: the Judaeo-Masonic cult of ugly

Your comments seem intelligent and informed. Unfortunately, they’re a bit above my head and I don’t think I’d add value to anything you said. My contribution is just to make a couple comments about how I see art in general.
Some beauty is subjective—but much of it is objective. I think it’s important to hammer that point with people—because it’s been hammered out by the forces of relativism for so long. Relativism is a wicked ideology—no matter what it’s applied to (politics, art, social issues, morality, athletics, or any other human pursuit.) I was not surprised to learn that BHO included a barb against “absolutism” in his 2nd inaugural speech. Yes—let’s live in a society where nothing really means what it could mean, or might mean, or used to mean… or maybe it still means that, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it the next time. Such crap.
I’m not well-versed in the formal definitions of various artistic movements—but I know bullsh!t when I see it, and a lot of the so-called “art” that’s been passed off in recent decades is garbage. Furthermore, the cultural assault that’s come with it (e.g., “piss-Christ”) speaks volumes about the cultural depravity of some segments of our society. To some—art is the thing you do when you fail at everything else—precisely because you can’t fail at it. That’s the belief—you can’t fail at it. But you can fail at it—and people do, but they don’t get told that they failed, or that they suck. Everyone gets a trophy—nobody gets offended. Isn’t this blissful?
As a young artist, with little wisdom to my name, I made a decision about myself which was nonetheless wise, and which has stuck with me to this very day. I decided that the underpinning of my artistic philosophy would be as follows: “make stuff that looks cool—because that’s what I like to make, and that’s what I like to show people.” I’d love to hear a professional art critic’s reaction to that “philosophy” today!
It sounds rather unsophisticated, of course—but that was (and is) the whole point. I grasped the notion that art didn’t need to be sophisticated—it just needed to be good. Looking back on it now, I realize that the invisible cultural pressures off that time were so weird. “Sophisticated” so often meant “unintelligible.” I remember thinking about becoming an artist, and starting to look around at who the culture regarded as important. I watched the movie Basqiat—and I just remember thinking, “man, art is depressing—and everyone around it is depressing and shallow.” I smelled the falsehood. I decided that I didn’t want to be an artist—that I just wanted to make art.
That mindset is why I was drawn to graffiti—which was one of the best artistic movements of recent times, in my view. Why? Because it was honest—and real. Graffiti wasn’t about “existentialism,” cocktails or being seen. Graffiti was about NOT being seen. It was about making stuff that looked cool—and making fun of stuff that didn’t. Like I said—real. In a strange way, it also amounted to “performance art” in a sense—because you could spend hours and hours on something, only to find it painted over the next day, and gone forever. And even if it lasted a while—it all got painted over eventually. It was art for art’s sake. Natural expression, exploration and adventure.
As I said, I’m not an artist—I just make art. I’m sure others could offer more valuable criticism on Damien Hirst and that type of art than I can, but here’s my take on him.
The shark in the formaldehyde tanks? —f*cking awesome. I don’t care what idea they’re supposed to express. It’s a shark—floating in the middle of the room. The frame is simple and tasteful—and the color of the liquid is absolutely sublime. Is it the pinnacle of artistic accomplishment? No. Is it even art—I can’t say. But it’s a wonder to behold—and fascinating to ponder. Most of all—it’s showcases the real artist and the True Master—God. God made sharks because he felt like it—boo-ya. And for every shark that’s been seen by man’s eye—a million sharks are born, live, die and decompose beneath the depths of the sea. Beauty rarely seen and never fully appreciated—until Damien Hirst’s piece. I haven’t seen it in person, but I don’t necessarily need to—I can see it in my mind. If you’re inclined—and I am—you can marvel at the symmetry, and the asymmetry, and the geometric composition of that joint creation. After that, your eye can run along the contours of that shark—just like it can on a Ferrari, or on a beautiful female figure. Whatever it is that art is supposed to achieve—that does it.
Today, I call it tasteful, and aesthetically pleasing. But whether its my own, or someone else’s—if art doesn’t “look cool,” it fails as a vehicle for whatever ideas it contains. That’s art to me.
Oh—I almost forgot the 2nd point I had (yes—all the above was initially one thought that I was going to share—ha!). I was going to say how aesthetically offensive I find almost every part of Freemasonry. Maybe it’s just coincidence—or perhaps it can be explained in more objective terms. Either way, the colors, the symbols, the “temples” and regalia of Freemasonry are just plain ugly. It makes me wonder (more than I already do) how artists like Albrecht Dürer and Leonardo Da Vinci could have been associated with this tacky and tawdry cult. Maybe that’s just how it goes when you’ve decided to worship Satan. Objective failure, all around.