Roger Kimball explains Britain’s Turner Prize in all its philistine slaying glory:
What makes the Turner Prize pathetic as well as noxious is its banality, its utter predictability. The Prize pretends to be daring, challenging, transgressive, original. But the only thing it successfully transgresses is our patience. As for originality, its penchant for scatological eroticism was fully exploited by Dada a century ago.
Because I’ve been reading so much of this manosphere stuff (maybe I’ll explain that in a future post), I automatically thought of [Trigger warning: fun ahead] the graphic in this post over at Alpha Game: The argument for patriarchy. When I first came across it, it was a spit-out-your-coffee-laughing moment.
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