Corporate Pornography

Joseph Campbell elicited that anything which arouses desire is pornography, be it a steaming Philly cheese steak or the glistening Mustang belonging to the next-door neighbor. It does not have to be flesh to become pornographic, and I beg not to digress to agree. Take America’s many celebrations: hallmark inventions. (heh heh)

Holidays are cash machines in the form of piggy banks, designed to stomach consumer spendthrift folly, to shit out perfect green bills which soon manage to find their way back into the sticky clutches of perpetually jonesing consumers who find their fingers were not so sticky after all…

It s all sensationalism, all flash and bang and glitter, the neon impress of garish color on your retinas, of symbolism stripped of its heaviness to lift upward, full of hot air, to trap itself against the ceiling of futility: the ritual of meaning has fallen away from the forms of practice and we are left with a cardboard charade, or a dance of inflatable dolls that bob at the whim of the great fiscal machine. It grinds, in its tautological logic of capitalism, of progress defined by the circulation of numbers that in itself becomes more in importance than the events that precipitate its existence: a bone structure more obsessed in calcifying itself than adding meat to dem bones.

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