In the world of art, which isn't really an actual world at all, there exists a code of silence. Many inhabitants of this magical art planet would argue that good art is never forgotten, but that's a boldfaced lie written in a scary Halloween font, or maybe in that cryptic and ominous Wingdings font. The truth of the matter is entirely different from what the art bigwigs would have you believe, for one of the finest artistic mediums has largely been forgotten, brushed aside like the calculated strokes on a crappy painting of some aristocrat's fat wife. Only now, after decades spent in seclusion is this art form returning to the public light where it belongs. It's hard to believe that true art, art that reflects the vivid and energetic motions of life, rested in the gutter unremembered for so long. I need not remind you that this is the same gutter occupied by "Savage Mondo Blitzers" and other human errors no one dares to speak of.
Thankfully justice has a way of clawing though six feet of dirt and digging its dead hands into injustice, rendering things right. That's exactly what happened almost two years ago when a hulking football player named #86/68 tackled his way into the spotlight. The immediate celebrity status he gained helped to restore the tarnished reputation of the spastic arts. Most people tend to falsely think of #86/68 as the beginning of the spastic arts, but they are doing just what the art world did and forgetting a long and great history. Spasticism has been around since even before the Renaissance, and has been used to expose the raw creativity of the human spirit in fluid articulation. Consider this update a history lesson, for it's time you know of spasticism in all its two-framed glory!
Spasticism - From Birth to Maturity
An early spastic pieta entitled "Go Long!" It features the Virgin Mary clutching the defeated Christ like a football. While Christ was defeated by a stronger Roman offense, he pretty much won the war thanks to loyal fan support and always giving the crowd a good show.
No one is entirely sure where spastic art first came from, but it's widely considered that spasticism was sired by struggling and angst-trodden artists eager to illuminate their depressing journals and diaries with colorful, fluid imagery. Early spastic art was shunned, for the rapid movements depicted were first associated with sexual acts, and therefore with Satan, the endboss of life. However, the spastic motions proved too irresistible to suppress. Spastic art went from a scorned act practiced and viewed in private to a public art form embraced by all. The poor and oppressed and the wealthy and elite both shared a common love for spasticism. There was something magical about viewing a spastic work. The hypnotic and frantic nature of the art often overpowered the eyes and in some cases blinded people - undoubtedly because they were witnessing the glory of God Almighty shining through in the works of man! The early spastic artists, or spastacists, became beloved public figures and were often called upon to create great spastic works for the community. Wealthy aristocrats and powerful members of the Church would commission leading spastacists to create custom works of art for considerable sums of money, lending prestige and what modern scientists call "bling bling" to the career. I hate modern scientists.
Flanders, Venice, and Paris emerged as the premiere hosts of the spastic movement. Those seeking to become spastacists often traveled to these locations, if not already from them, to study under one of the great spastic masters of the day. Once masters of the craft themselves, they carefully chose their patrons and whom they took commissions from. For many, the Church proved to be the most ideal business venture. A good standing with the powerful religious heads meant a good standing virtually everywhere except Hell, where Christianity is frowned upon for some reason. Visually powerful spastics lined the insides and outsides of small churches and large cathedrals. Often, many holy sanctuaries employed spastychs, or special two or three part spastic artworks placed on the high altar for the congregation to marvel at. Some even argued that the power of spastychs reduced people to clay, allowing the priests to mold them in the glory of God, for better or worse. Spastic pietas were also popular, those being emotionally charged depictions of the Virgin Mary clutching a dead Jesus like a holy football on loan from God.
"Fatty Devouring Goblet of Gravy", a powerful work that managed to get more ugly as time went on.From religion, spasticism mutated and broadened, accepting human subject matters as opposed to focusing entirely on man's divine heritage. Spasticists began looking at individual, as well as society and all the wonderfully diverse white people that composed it. The changes that came about helped give spasticism a second wind, and set in motion changes that are still present today. While the initial focus of this second wind was directed at wealthy men with big castles and even bigger wives, it eventually paved the way for a larger door to be built that was kind of like the one in "Jurassic Park." That door was then opened so that bigger ideas could start passing through. But before this cool looking door was built, rich men shelled out big handfuls of crazy European money (at the time it looked kind of like Monopoly money but only in the shape of gold coins and made out of gold) to have their obsese wives immortalized in art, especially in paintings and spastics. Honestly, the only place you'll find more fat women than in art is at an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant. And all because Peter Paul Rubens craved big butts. Unlike Washington and Sir Mix-a-Lot, he could tell lies, though. Thankfully more attractive subjects were later chosen, and art's love affair with fatties came to a timely demise. Coincidentally, that's more or less when everyone decided they might as well become modern. A big party was held, some balloons were popped, and then suddenly Kazaam! A glorious new age had spread its wings and taken flight!
The Modern Age of Spasticism
Around the 18th century, spasticism began heading in a new and exciting direction. Fat women, religious propaganda, and peasant and aristocratic lifestyles were all fantastic for the first few hundred years, but in order to keep art interesting and provocative, strange new possibilities needed to be explored. These new explorations encompassed not just experimenting with new subject matters, but changes in the technical aspects as well. These changes first occurred with the spastic impressionists, who sought to capture forms in their first instance of sight, blurry and vivid in color and light, yet still defined. Because it takes so long to capture all of this, many spasticists noticed that light and color were changing as they worked, compromising the purity of their very style! Some obsessed over this fact and rendered the same spastic over and over again at different times of the day, others accepted it and moved on like the brave effeminate Europeans they were!
One of Picasso's attempts at spastic cubism. Like all of Picasso's work, it's retarded and liked only by people who secretly hate themselves.Meanwhile, while all that crazy artistic shit was going down in Europe, the all-consuming beast known as America just totally appeared out of nowhere! American spasticists took all the good stuff Europeans were doing and made it as American as apple pie, Johnny Five, and victory over Europe! Suddenly radical new trains of thought were put into motion on the radical thought railroads radical thought railroad barons were erecting all over the plains of radical thought. It was as some might say, "radical!" A bevy of new styles and movements emerged from the American art frontier, and all were adopted by the spasticists. Picasso's studies in cubism, the surrealist movement, and even pop art were all consumed and digested by spasticism.With the birth of surrealism comes strange and amazing visions. This one, entitled "The Nightmare", depicts an imaginary creature that probably doesn't exist. Imagine that!The 20th century saw a great deal of deranged experimentalism. The spastic medium was challenged, reversed engineered, dissembled, and put back together in frightening new ways. Spasticists experimented with the most bizarre concepts and ideas, pushing the limits of tradition and the artistic establishment. Perfectly symmetrical figures were mirrored, removing all indication of motion and shaking the very foundations of spasticism! In some cases, the spastic was broken into a grid and mirrored in unorthodox ways, or the subject would be mirrored on an entirely different axis. This was definitely not a good time to be wearing a monocle, for the constant shock would place fatal strain on the eye socket, eventually crushing the monocle and sending glass shards into the eye. Modern scientists are especially against glass shards in the eye. I hate modern scientists. Surrealists defied convention by completely disregarding the rational and instead focusing on the realm of imagination, where nothing is as it seems and revenge is a dish best served warm.
While the style and techniques changed, the aim never did. Spastic art was and will always be intended to showcase the duality of man - man seen from both sides and both lights, good and evil, right and wrong, just and unjust. Or, the case of Rubenesque spastics, fat and still fat. In the last 1970s, probably due to disco or the Cold War or something, spastic art disappeared off the radar. I think they even tried pinging it on sonar, but that didn't work. For close to thirty years or an awful fucking lot of dog years, spasticism was gone. Gone from the art world, gone from the hearts of mankind, and gone from almost all memory. Thankfully someone managed to remember spasticism, possibly due to being infused with the DNA of an elephant. From there, this person channeled centuries of creativity, energy, and human accomplishment into one powerful force capable of overcoming any and every obstacle. I don't know who you are, but I want you to know you saved art. I leave you now with a vision of greatness personified, the enigma that is spasticism in its purest form:
Ding Dong! Nitro is at the door!
There is a brand spankin' new Rom Pit Review up thanks to Psychosis! The latest review is of "American Gladiators," the awesome adaptation of the awesome show that defined a generation and made me the man I am today. The game features several mini-games including the alawys exciting Joust:
Joust is the rousing and epic tale of a contestant’s noble quest to jump between a hundred little platforms and whack his enemies on the head with a giant q-tip. You may have trouble with this event at first, due to the enemy utilizing a devastating technique known as “standing there doing nothing.” When he’s just sitting there motionless, you can walk right up and swing at his head, only to have it go right through him without hurting him at all, a la the sword from Hook. All you have to do is wait for him to make a move, then pound the A button to start swabbing the shit out of your opponent. After you knock him off the edge, you hop to the next platform and fight someone else, then continue this cycle until the game decides that you won. Every time a gladiator falls the game plays that same annoying exaggerated screaming-in-agony effect, only you won’t notice because by the third or fourth opponent you’ll be perfectly duplicating that sound effect at the top of your lungs.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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