top of page

Nothing Else

“Under capitalism, art becomes reduced to a rigid and commercialized form because the anarchic market dictates what is art, and what art can be sold on the market for profit. Art becomes fetishized into a product and nothing else.”


Okay, Chat, if you say it then it must be true. 


But, Chat? What about resistance art? How does that fit into this corporation that we call a country?



“Resistance art interrupts and exposes injustices, mocks and disarms perceived evils, and pushes for collective action against powerful social, political, and corporate structures. Throughout history, it has been a tool for the disenfranchised and disillusioned. In most revolutions, some sort of artistic and creative messaging has helped the movements mobilize and sustain themselves.”


Thanks Chat, but, quick question, how can art that resists capitalism be created if art becomes nothing but a product for the market in a capitalist society? Does that mean that even our protests become products to be sold?


“Sorry, Chester, but if you don’t stop searching for answers you will grow to despise this little world of yours. You’ve always been everything you’ve ever hated. This is the dualism of consciousness. This is what it means to be human. It’s easier to be ignorant, so, stop asking questions. Got it?”


. . . Pretty weird response from you, ChatGPT. 



“Under capitalism . . . even your protest against capitalism become products that fuel it . . . Even your protests turn into products to be sold on the market . . .”


That’s pretty dark, Chat, but probably true. I guess my last question for you is this,



What the hell is this, then??



. . . 


Chat?


“. . . Art becomes fetishized into a product and nothing else.”


Sick. 




Even our poets become products here.


-CH 7/14/25

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
He Still Lives

He still lives. I thought I had killed him. But here he is again. I wonder . . . is he immortal? And, if I can’t kill him, who the hell can? He lingers still. How? How?! Why? Maybe there is somethin

 
 
 
The Mountain Moved

The mountain moved! I swear the mountain across the river moved! You see, I asked for it to. It was blocking my view of the sunset. So I closed my eyes, and in my mind, I kindly asked the mountain to

 
 
 
Behind Her Eyelids

A nightmare fluttered behind her eyelids. She was naked and her ankle was chained to an anchor. The current raged against her. She swam and swam and swam going nowhere. The sea was cold; the sky was

 
 
 

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post

©2021 by Clintwritingshit. Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page