THE NECROPHILIA OF HIGH ART: WHAT TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET DIDN’T SAY
HOW THE DEAD CANONS LEECH OFF MODERN CELEBRITY CULTURE TO STAY RELEVANT
Opera and ballet have lunged forward to prove their relevance — and thus their necessity — to the modern world, as if sundials were striving to compete for relevance with Artificial Intelligence. No one denies their historical significance, but for the sake of human evolution, it is time to move on, shedding the old skin.
Old-format art has yielded to new technological forms that offer expanded horizons for human creative potential; as a consequence, it has lost its innovative edge and its grip on the world's attention.
Stranded upon the wreckage of a former reality, decimated by the technological breakthroughs of the 21st century, old-format art — instead of embracing the radical challenge of the future — has chosen to wall itself off within a niche circle of adepts of the past, those unable to process their grief and step into the unknown.
Only by a stroke of luck, rather than through its own merit, did it emerge from obscurity and stir in agony — as if realizing that this chance to latch onto the fame of a celebrated contemporary, using his name as both a spotlight and a megaphone to prove to themselves, “We still matter!” — would never come again. It is a mummy suddenly rising in its crypt — not from a surge of life, but from a stray draft stirred by the whirlwind of Timothée Chalamet’s living fame.
The Met Opera even dedicated a video to Chalamet, eager to ride the wave of an external scandal for a shot of fresh blood; and, more importantly, to shield the rose-tinted glasses of its acolytes, mourning their shattered dreams, from a painful collision with the present reality — and above all, from their exodus out of the intensive reanimating of the ancient world's corpse to architect the unprecedented greatness of the new era.
Elon Musk — as a true reformer, sensing the pulse of the era — drags humanity into an uncharted future, rescuing it from stagnation and the rot of passive nostalgia. He is today’s Richard Wagner, who has shed the old skin for the sake of new forms that now reside not within the halls of academies, but in the sphere of high technology.
When a reformer departs a sphere that has received his nourishment — it dies, becoming merely an exhibit in the museum of human genius. The castle of the former glory stands empty, a derelict monument immediately occupied by necrophile normies. Fearing change, they seek comfort in a predictable past, flattering themselves with illusions of belonging to something "great".
But true greatness is always found in the "here and now" — in the unsafe, precarious zones formed under conditions of uncertainty. The museum-goer, like a true necrophile, wants no part in true greatness because it demands risk and transformation. He prefers to parasitize the reforms of a safe past — Wagner's operas and Stravinsky's ballets, created by those who endured scandals for their disruptive, terrifying, "non-normie" mindset — while Musk today dictates a new reality that requires no proof.
What we face is not a dispute over taste, but a radical fracture of society: between the pioneers of the high-tech world and those left behind in the twilight of a primitive era, clinging to the wreckage of obsolete canons.
HOW THE DEAD CANONS LEECH OFF MODERN CELEBRITY CULTURE TO STAY RELEVANT
Opera and ballet have lunged forward to prove their relevance — and thus their necessity — to the modern world, as if sundials were striving to compete for relevance with Artificial Intelligence. No one denies their historical significance, but for the sake of human evolution, it is time to move on, shedding the old skin.
Old-format art has yielded to new technological forms that offer expanded horizons for human creative potential; as a consequence, it has lost its innovative edge and its grip on the world's attention.
Stranded upon the wreckage of a former reality, decimated by the technological breakthroughs of the 21st century, old-format art — instead of embracing the radical challenge of the future — has chosen to wall itself off within a niche circle of adepts of the past, those unable to process their grief and step into the unknown.
Only by a stroke of luck, rather than through its own merit, did it emerge from obscurity and stir in agony — as if realizing that this chance to latch onto the fame of a celebrated contemporary, using his name as both a spotlight and a megaphone to prove to themselves, “We still matter!” — would never come again. It is a mummy suddenly rising in its crypt — not from a surge of life, but from a stray draft stirred by the whirlwind of Timothée Chalamet’s living fame.
The Met Opera even dedicated a video to Chalamet, eager to ride the wave of an external scandal for a shot of fresh blood; and, more importantly, to shield the rose-tinted glasses of its acolytes, mourning their shattered dreams, from a painful collision with the present reality — and above all, from their exodus out of the intensive reanimating of the ancient world's corpse to architect the unprecedented greatness of the new era.
Elon Musk — as a true reformer, sensing the pulse of the era — drags humanity into an uncharted future, rescuing it from stagnation and the rot of passive nostalgia. He is today’s Richard Wagner, who has shed the old skin for the sake of new forms that now reside not within the halls of academies, but in the sphere of high technology.
When a reformer departs a sphere that has received his nourishment — it dies, becoming merely an exhibit in the museum of human genius. The castle of the former glory stands empty, a derelict monument immediately occupied by necrophile normies. Fearing change, they seek comfort in a predictable past, flattering themselves with illusions of belonging to something "great".
But true greatness is always found in the "here and now" — in the unsafe, precarious zones formed under conditions of uncertainty. The museum-goer, like a true necrophile, wants no part in true greatness because it demands risk and transformation. He prefers to parasitize the reforms of a safe past — Wagner's operas and Stravinsky's ballets, created by those who endured scandals for their disruptive, terrifying, "non-normie" mindset — while Musk today dictates a new reality that requires no proof.
What we face is not a dispute over taste, but a radical fracture of society: between the pioneers of the high-tech world and those left behind in the twilight of a primitive era, clinging to the wreckage of obsolete canons.