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Showing posts from August 21, 2015

Masters of Faust They're the Gone Kings

The construction of any stylistic work with seemingly random elements suggests by contrast a hum-drumming of the tools of interpretation and their potential. But first she'll console him. She'll declare her love quickly and then move on into the second act. A formal bridge in any well defined arc of narrative if ever there was but not to be confused with any real presence or heft. If they were believable they might be excused for their fluidity or for something red. But they don't deserve a reward for plain old utilitarian mendacity.
The voice of epoch is to be expected and it's found again and again in such dear works of calculation and preciousness. It's plain that it's derivation is the chuff of a sad engine sneaking around the bend. We'll watch this thing as it tumbles into hysterics. We'll go mad. We'll be gone from our choice of fantasy in the space of so much poverty when we should be well in our mind. Instead in our eye's we will be poo…