breakfast

I’m currently reading Chuck Klosterman’s Sex, Drugs, & Cocoa Puffs.  So far so good; I like things I can relate to which so far is at least 2 of the chapters (I’ve been ignoring the ones that are composed of pop-cultural references that I do not understand/care about).  Thusly the chapter’s I’ve enjoyed are “This is Emo,” “Billy Sim, “What Happens When People Stop Being Polite.”  These chapters are about cultural constructs of love & romance (and how we will never be able to have true love because of our crippling expectations), The Sims (and how we play video games about living instead of living), and The Real World (and how members of our generation, instead of being who they are, now choose the type of categorical identity they think they should be based on the archetypes available on some 21 seasons of this pseudo-reality show), respectively.  Which, to me, is totally fucking brilliant. 

And I also love the way Klosterman has defined postmodern, because the term can finally be put into perspective.  He quotes an uncited source in the footnote on page 35: Postmodern—“Any art that is conscious of the fact that it is, in fact, art.”