truth is beauty, blah, blah, blah.

I felt a bit sheepish about sticking that last post up. It seemed rather fatuous to be railing about anything as inconsequential as a television programme. In fact, it seemed insubstantial to be invoking 'theories' x and y as if there is any actual consequence of them in real life - post-modernity, pop culture, "culture", thingummy blah - particularly when bloggers around the world use 'virtual' space to discuss actual life-shattering matters, strikes, armed insurgency, attack by foreign powers, etc.

Then I thought, no, fuck 'em. I'm right to find Popworld objectionable, and no amount of cavilling around notions of validity can alter the fact - FACT! - that it is - in its tiny pimple on the mooning ass of western civilisation, that perpetually good idea, way - completely and appallingly offensive.

I have a privileged set of gripes, sure, but legitimate. I'm dragged out of bed against my better judgment to work a 45 hour week to cover basic food and housing costs, and then get presented at every turn with the awful truth that I live in a society that loves, craves ' "Popworld" ', the strange meta-reality that Heat magazine also depicts, the press, the alternative press reacting to it, that even the Breakfast news shows attach some sort of degree of relevance to. A society that believes things like this, from the office of the Mayor of London's Senior Policy adviser in a speech at the National Portrait Gallery:

'Contemporary Chinese culture is very dynamic and Chinese art is at the cutting edge of the international art scene. To give people a flavour of that we invited the winner of the Chinese ‘Pop Idol’ competition to turn on our lighting display and perform at Tower Bridge.' Cutting edge. Pop Idol.

Jude Woodward goes on: 'We also worked with Selfridges to bring two contemporary Chinese artists here. One was in the press when they built a city out of biscuits and cakes in the store. It took four days to build, but the public demolished it in four hours.'

I. Ask. You. Well done to that Chinese artist for holding up a crumb-specked mirror to our locust nature. We now suffer cultural indigestion.

Salaam Pax can write about their thing, this is what exercises me.