In the Christmas spirit I have spent my time worrying about you. I found hope. Naturally: I was looking for some.
Who lives?
The Great Karl. Not Harpo,Groucho or even Rove, no: Karl.
I found three versions of the same production, and what I found was rising exhuberence, more sumptuous production values, more energy: vox very populii. growing louder and more convincing, more hopeful. To speak with the voice of the gods is what art will be able to do: it is the hope which mandates artists, dedicates them to truth and performance.
But not all artists are filled with truth. Many are filled with lies and their art is hate distilled and embittered. They are part of the show which must go on, they can't help what they see and translate. But the many speak with the same voice and sing the same song.
The purpose of this diary is to present what you might think of as pre-WWII kitsch, old favorites made new, bolder: for your enjoyment.
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