The Paradox of Pop Culture!

We went into an Oscar induced tail-spin.  Sunday evening we had jumped into the Pop Culture pool with both feet, and totally submerged ourselves in the spectacle. And really, despite, and because of, all the glitz and glamour, and gushing, and Gucci... it was truly gruesome.

Pop Culture is a grand leveler.  It's kind of like a monster guillotine.  It elevates and chops down simultaneously. No one gets out unscathed.  You can't argue with Pop.  It just is, kind of like a mountain, or a hurricane, or the air we breathe.

But it is sometimes totally oppressive. Yes, the image is all.  Everything is reduced to what you can see.  It gives you the false idea that everything is material.  All can be reduced to what the eye can consume. It's deadening.  A killer.  Even as Pop shouts at you with words such as "hope" and "dreams" and "magic" and "beauty" and "creativity" it's all a hustle baby!

There are few souls who seem to keep their heads.  But of course, it's hard to tell who or what is genuine and who or what is just a seamless fabrication.  Lots of acting and simulating, and sublimating. What a weird display.  How invalidating, even as it is supposedly honoring and validating.  Paradoxical!