On Banksy, Word Art, and Texas

I'm in Texas! Also, I've given up on the lack of capitalization - I'm not e.e. cummings, and I can accept that.

So, before I launch into this whole thing on Banksy, a disclaimer: I am not nearly edgy enough or well-known enough to assume for a second that I can get away with sharing my opinion on Banksy and have it mean something. But, with that, here's my take on this thing: As you may or may not know, Banksy art (graf? art? who even cares?) has appeared in Westwood, LA, about three blocks from where I live and on the back of an Urban Outfitters (RIGHT?!). And because I basically go to school with a bunch of hipsters, this is a really big deal. I have, in my own time (WAY BEFORE YOU, duh) appreciated Banksy work and my favorite "piece" or whatever is the two male cops going at it (I do not feign to be deep or complicated - I've also included it for the like-minded readers out there).

I also enjoyed the subversiveness of his graf because who can claim they don't like punk rock dissent against globalization and consumerism? So, with all that in mind, I'm SURE you're wondering what my feelings are on this. And here it is: I'm glad Banksy has expanded into LA, because Angelinos could definitely use a dose of global issues (at least to say that we know there are some). I'm also extremely happy that it's on the back of an Urban Outfitters because this whole thing with the UO (same company as Free People and Anthropologie) trying to form a lawsuit against Banksy for vandalizing one of their stores is laughable - they've made so much money off his art work (with the wall decals and the shirts and the shit) that I'm pretty sure he's ousted Che as a t-shirt hero. So, bravo, Banksy, you cultured devil you. And, again, fuck the machine.

Oh, also, as a side note, the facebook group or whatever that's trying to petition to keep Banksy up just because it's Banksy - get the fuck over yourselves. Graffiti is temporary art meant to be subversive and destructive to the status quo. If it wasn't in danger of getting erased, it'd lose a good chunk of its power.

Moving right along, I'm having increasing difficulty reading writing (poetry, mostly) and finding value in it. My own work aside (since I'd be completely oblivious if I considered it any good), why is it that literature now just falls into constant exaggeration? Why is this considered at all acceptable? I've been sticking to tumblr as my source of poetry. Not ONLY the dumb little hipster, hyper-saturated photographs with song lyrics on top, but, like, the few comments people make here and there that I allow myself to misread and understand. Is this even allowed? Not art. Definitely not art. Just a sign that I need to go to bed at a proper time.

Finally, I guess, on Texas. I've literally been either traveling, sleeping, eating, or watching movies today with constant overlap between these activities. Texas makes me feel useless and I'm not sure if I like it because there's no guilt to it. On a happier note, there is so much Indian food being put in front of me with no hope of cessation. I contain multitudes (of curry, naan, and subjhi). More on this later (because, honestly, formatting those dumb pictures has taken more time than writing this post and I have dumb homework to get to).