INTERNET — Metamodernism is an ism. Ism’s are important, as they help us define our daily behaviors, creations and artistic expressions. Yep, they’re importante. Why though, you don’t ask? Well, I’ll tell you: we have a need to classify and quantify our emotions and creative endeavors into a ‘sandbox’. This ‘sandbox’ can be escaped, yet we have to forget all notions of ism’s. Lofty feat, most say.
Esteemed colleague and fellow Internet Chronicle writer espouses his theory of ism’s to me via Google Chats. I’m too lazy to post the whole log because I’m prescribing to a certain ism at the moment, but essentially his basic viewpoint was “Make something, call it art, label it a part of an ism, nice shiny business suit” — fuck, sorry Kilgoar, I totally botched that quote, but hey man, great coat-jacket.
Screen left – Enter psychedelia – Yes hello, psychedelics here, we’ve heard of your oscillations and we’d like to confirm and deny your general thesis. Although, Shia Labeouf is right on the money… fuck I love money… anyway, ONWARD!
We want to know metamoderinism. I need it in my life, much like I need the Lord Jesus Christ, amen. I do believe they are one in the same. The oscillations of metamoderinism are simply vibrations, which is a theory as old as some fucking philosopher. We vibrate at a certain frequency, this is true. Some call it the “Vibration of Life”, those people are faggots and are most definitely Phish fans. This metamodern oscillation theory, however, produces many a stout question we must ask ourselves: “Are we truly this awesome?”
The answer is still yet to be determined, but after consulting Internet experts at the archive.org’s way-back machine pages of the fark message board, we can only begin to grasp the origins of metamodernist culture. Within these hallowed halls of truly lulzy past, reveal a dark underbelly — if not an intentional plot– to thrust the metmodernist meme upon a youth already devoid of post-modernism, a scene without a label… perhaps better left that way.
NAY! There’s no time for pussy-footin’ round these times when it comes to art! Qualify and quantify, stick it in your local sink-hole of a DYI venue and make sure to make fliers — pamphlets even — because that worked before, but this will work better[reasons]. As fledgling psych, philosophy and English makers we had to take it a step further to truly understand the chaos, the oscillations, the correction of errors due.
This time around, we got’em, boss… we got’em.
We took acid that night.
You know what, I have my life and you have yours, don’t fucking tread on me, ok mom?