Tag Archives: Dada

Dada

Art for art’s sake? Some mad Protestant Hell: give glory to gods too quick dethroned, the crowds that crowned them discharged early and now gone home, their purpose found too soon, before they grew strong. Without any message, pure art, … Continue reading

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Dances with Whales, Winces with Dulls

At one time in my life, I experimented with writing my own cut-up novel. Heavily into Keroauc, Ginsberg and Burroughs at the time, heavily into mind-altering additives of several varieties, spending late nights in cafes discussing Gertrude Stein and Pound’s … Continue reading

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