![]() ![]() l) I surprised myself by tackling Dostoevsky novels and finding them relevant to my own life, psychology, etc. i) Does this make me a pompous girlie-man? j) No. One day, I heard some Stravinsky and burst into tears. h) I spent four years thinking Green Day made the greatest music in the universe. Who cares about all that bulldash, the haw-hawing in ginsenged dining rooms? g) All you have to do is read, watch, listen. You don’t have to speak eloquently about anything with intellectuals. ![]() f) It’s not hard to respect difficult art and escape the self-perpetuating loops of populist cliché. After a decade of unbridled virtual hedonism I crushed Sonic the Hedgehog to death with The Brothers Karamazov. d) How did I escape this declension? e) I learned words like declension. ![]() I witnessed first hand the slow declension of burgeoning intellects through a routine of television, video games and a fear of reading books. But that’s hardly Beckett, is it? c) I first became an intellectual snob in my late teens. ![]() All populist entertainment is repulsive, useless, dangerous and witheringly anti-intellectual. Popular Culture: An Alphabetical Contempt. ![]()
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