had my cup of vodka, thought a lot about all that separating artist from the art and such; and while the ability to do so very much depends on each individual’s tolerance to assholery or plain monstrosity, willingness to overlook shit and so on, i’d say some artists are just more separable from their art then others. like stravinski was kinda fashy, but who cares now? (being long dead helps too)
but when it’s a pop star we’re talking about, often their “self” is as much of their work of art, as their lyrics/music, and they go together in a package deal. some less, some more, for sure, but like morrissey’s oeuvre f***ing is himself, there’s very little that comes outside of the self, that is his f***ing obsessions, personal mythology, body of texts important to him, biographical details, and so on, and he is like an inalienable part of that hypertext. (i’m not btw judging him for what the source of his art is or anything) (also that’s why his stuff sucks so much of late – by early forties anyone would exhaust the self as the sole source of art, but at that point the self is only thing he knows anyway)
and that, i think, is why it might be difficult for some to do the whole separation thing, especially if one becomes morrissey’s fan during their teens/early twenties, when one tends to get attached to music and other shit so very emotionally, probably more so than later, and it ends up, to a degree, shaping who they are (i still listen to much of what i listened to at 14, 18, 23, and while that shit doesnt define me, it's really close), and god have mercy upon the poor f***er who’s into pop music, bc really – the relationship between the pop star and fans is made to feel so, so very personal. bc, like, he totally gets me, man.
so when our boy is being his awful self again, i can very well understand the feeling of betrayal that some have, since their very f***ing personhood was shaped by, well, this. (kids, play it safe and rather listen to that prominent in XII-XVII centuries composer, anonymous, he will never be able to hurt you)
and yeah, he’s no monster, nor is he a fash for reals. (he doesnt understand ideology as a thing that f***ing exists, and so cannot really adopt one)
and shit like being a selfish dick and a misanthrope is not really a moral failing or anything (although his misanthropy is not really like an equal opportunity hate, sooo…). the real magnitude of the m-bomb induced shit storm is like – oh my a dumb celeb has been a giant reactionary piece of shit in public, and a useful idiot to the far-right; why, that sort of thing never happens!
what i think might be giving to some people bigger offense (or rather sense of dread and despair) than the contents of what he says – what, you dont have that delightful relative repeating at you the dumbest hot takes from some f***ing uncuckedtruth dot com, as vile as it gets - it’s just like white noise at this point; but the shocking stupidity of it all. like one has to work hard to f***ing come up with the most f***ing facile, unimaginative and banal shit, as he does. ok, he probably was no socrates back in the day either, but certainly was capable of subtlety, nuance, humour, some cool insights into the human condition etc.
i guess the more optimistic of us should just stop expecting the human mind to be consistent, since we see it’s sooo f***ing not. (although our darling is getting consistently terrible at everything, like the idiot have finally swallowed the savant or sth).
i think a lot of these dumb articles (although stewart lee’s one i do like) are only partly motivated by the necessity to churn out some clickbaity content for middlebrow publications. partly, i do believe, is this legit horror and embarrassment of watching this f***ing spectacle of demise, while unable to turn away.