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BNN News Archive Page
       Wednesday, March 15, 2006

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Vanity Foul: MySpace Beast, L.A. Belly

Instant reaction to James Verini's Vanity Fair piece on MySpace? He's the only working writer whose usage of "refraction" appears to hint at my own more heavily freighted meaning. But the article, intended for East Coast readers, is an obscene slant of dreck -- the only possible outcome when serving as court stenographer of the third-rate Hell that is young L.A.

The cool and hmm and wow factor of Verini's reportage is substantially deadened for anyone who has lived, breathed, and operated in the belly of the beast for even a fleeting stretch of time. If one night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble, a year in L.A. among the chump-change succubi of MySpace makes a young man old.... These are horrible people, we must remember, as we understand that they are the flesh and blood pattern of reanimated dead modes of life. They are real, these corralled stampeding swine, these zombies, and their lives are monster lives. Beneath the masks are a mass of tentacles.

Verini's only sentence worth repeating is a spot-on glimpse at what writhes beneath, framed with the sort of gastronomical distaste that ought to cloak the rest of the piece. Alas, of course, a full-frontal repudiation and scourging of MySpace -- exactly what is called for to combat the fawning and cheesy portrait he's drawn of L.A.'s amateur-hour serial-sex crowd -- is missing, presumed dead.

Or undead: "it is a stage and a confessional, turgid with the promise of sex and as omnivorous and refractory as pop culture itself."

The unbroken promise is of broken sex; the refractory omnivorousness is cannibalism with boiled beans. This is a bugle call, you conservative dandies, you cultural aristocrats, you merciless aesthetes, you Rieffists, you Nuclear Mysticists, you quiet nauseates. Now is the time to hit back. Our targets strut and fret their hour upon the stage. The hospital actor -- even when massed -- has the weakest array of crutches. Start swinging, start cooking. A Hamlet In Every Pot.


James G. Poulos is the Postmodern Conservative.



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posted by James G. Poulos at 7:48 AM  

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