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"Despite the dogged commitment of several generations of American Studies and cultural studies graduate students who want to valorize watching television and immersion in hip-hop or other specialty market niches centered on youth recreation and the most ephemeral fads as both intellectually avant-garde and politically 'resistive,' it should be time to admit that that earnest disposition is intellectually shallow and an ersatz politics. The idea of 'popular' culture posits a spurious autonomy and organicism that actually affirm mass industrial processes by effacing them, especially in the putatively rebel, fringe, or underground market niches that depend on the fiction of the authentic to announce the birth of new product cycles."

la flic

What is a locust?

Its head, a grain of corn; its neck, the hinge of a knife;

Its horns, a bit of thread; its chest is smooth and burnished;

Its body is like a knife handle;

Its hock, a saw; its spittle, ink;

Its underwings, clothing for the dead.

On the ground - it is laying eggs;

In flight - it is like the clouds.

Approaching the ground, it is rain glittering in the sun;

Lighting on a plant, it becomes a pair of scissors;

Walking, it becomes a razor;

Desolation walks with it.

"Millions of years may elapse, hundreds of thousands of generations be born and die, but inexorably the time will come when the declining warmth of the sun will no longer suffice to melt the ice thrusting itself forward from the poles; when the human race, crowding more and more about the equator, will finally no longer find even there enough heat for life; when gradually even the last trace of organic life will vanish; and the earth, an extinct frozen globe like the moon, will circle in deepest darkness and in an ever narrower orbit about the equally extinct sun, and at last fall into it. Other planets will have preceded it, others will follow it; instead of the bright, warm solar system with its harmonious arrangement of members, only a cold, dead sphere will still pursue its lonely path through universal space. And what will happen to our solar system will happen sooner or later to all the other systems of our island universe; it will happen to all the other innumerable island universes, even to those the light of which will never reach the earth while there is a living human eye to receive it. And when such a solar system has completed its life history and succumbs to the fate of all that is finite, death, what then? Will the sun’s corpse roll on for all eternity through infinite space, and all the once infinitely diverse, differentiated natural forces pass for ever into one single form of motion, attraction? ‘Or’ - as Secchi asks – ‘do forces exist in nature which can re-convert the dead system into its original state of an incandescent nebula and re-awake it to new life? We do not know’." - Friedrich Engels, Dialectics of Nature

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