Welcome patrons, whores, snobs, vultures, et al. In honor of the looming launch of our artist platform B0UG3 – a hard reboot of the culture economy – we’re piloting a new weekly column: Culture Whore.
This is a collection of not-for-everyones, a celebration of low art everywhere, a mood board of everything you’re missing out on. Every Friday, we’ll highlight the words, visuals, brands, humor, and tunes that best capture the vibe of the week. We’re looking for broad sweeping phenomenons and niché flashes of brilliance alike – as long as it rings out the universal nuances of the human experience, we believe it’s worth spreading the word.
So stop us if you’ve heard it before. You probably have.
Words:
Not for me. Am I the only one who feels like we’ve spent the past ten years living in a demented Grimm’s fairytale? Evidently not, as it seems to be the theme of every piece of art I’ve consumed the past few weeks. A Children’s Bible is a particularly frustrating take on our collective dissociation – a parable with a tone oscillating haphazardly from after-school special on puberty/climate change to meditation on the inscrutably infinite nature of existence. And while I hate to break it to the 52-year-old author that we really don’t hear too many “ballers” or “true dats” from the mouths of kids these days (even the ones in a makeshift apocalypse bunker stockpiling food, evolutionary knowledge, and Hate For Their Parents™) it is mesmerizing how quickly and comfortably she can change gears to considering what it means for the same molecules from Julius Caesar’s last breath to still exist in the air we breathe, and to continue to long after our breath ceases. This book is not even, but still flew by in a couple sittings. I guess that’s childhood for you.
Visual:
The White Lotus by Mike White (HBO)
Not for you – unless you believe the only enlightenment waiting in Hawaii is of the saṃsāra variety, that the summit of Peak TV has not yet been reached, and/or in the cult of the comeback of Jennifer Coolidge.
Kevin Can F**k Himself by Valerie Armstrong (AMC)
Not for you – unless you recognize the simulation is glitching and/or you’re living in your TV, have fantasized about Alexis Rose, have fantasized about killing Ted Mosby.
Brand:
Future Is Color by Erwin Hines
Not for you – unless you want to use your sense of personal style as a billboard for your personal values and oppose racial inequity, oppressing energy or feelings, and/or elder abuse.
Humor:
Not for you – probably just for us.
Tunes:
For you. For everyone. Here is how you bring together a tonally consistent examination of the fairy tale called existence. A bit like if Bambi was just an ayahuasca trip by the huntress who gunned down his mother. Entirely of its time and simultaneously timeless, this project the sonic equivalent of watching a time-lapse of the seasons changing in your backyard for every year you’ve been alive. It’s scenic. It’s sweeping. It’s complete.