The Ideal World of Sancho Panza (1940-41)
This mural by Luis Quintanilla may be seen in the Language Arts Building of the University of Missouri, in Kansas City.

The Final Manifesto by Joshua Mehigan appeared in last February's issue of Poetry~~~

1. We see you.

2. We know who you are.

3. Your ideas are worthless.

4. Your aesthetic is stupid.

5. Your “technique” is a welter of narcissism, superstition, and habit.

6. All your little tiny ideas, all your whoring attempts at creation, and you yourself are nothing, nobody wants you, we despise you, it’s in our nature.

7. You should be kept as a pet.

8. You are a Philistine, the Paul Bunyan of decadence, an acromegalic fraud.

9. You are a minnow, a speck, a stain.

10. The genre humain is sick, and you are to blame.

11. You are a necrophiliac.

12. You are a museum of irrelevance.

13. It will take years to make Art vital and important again.

14. You are from this moment forbidden.

15. As the Italians say, Parla quando piscia la gallina.

16. We are here now.

17. Our aesthetics is empirically grounded.

18. Our taste will be raised to principle.

19. You and your band of jays will be flushed out.

20. Yes, Art is resurrected today: Victory is ours!

21. History will forget you and salute us.

22. Here you are, and here is oblivion.

23. This is the final manifesto, and the only one.

1 comment:

  1. This author appears to have a serious case of "Webochronotosis," a curious infection which quickly spreads from individual to individual electronically over the World Wide Web.

    Unlike other diseases which spread through the blood or nervous system Webochronotosis can become a pandemic in a mere matter of nanoseconds. And can convulse an entire continent before the spread can be checked or contained since those infected often desire to become infected. Reveling in the torrents of violent utterances the disease induces.

    Unlike lemmings which fatally fall off cliffs those infected with Webochronotosis leap off verbal cliffs with no fear of serious retribution. Since the responses they receive merely echo their own verbal absolutism and violence. In fact, the howl of a Webochronite has sometimes been mistaken for a mating call. Though experts in the field admit they can not always identify the species producing such calls. And the biological sciences exhibit the same confusion and helplessness as medical science in finding an explanation or cure.

    Massive electronic petri dishes, such as Common Dreams, Truthout, the Huffington Post, etc., serve as breeding grounds and incubators for the disease. Here all strains have been identified and discovered, varying in virulence and intensity. At times the disease strikes in a fierce sudden flash and is soon gone. At other times the offensive verbal cudgeling last longer and develops into enormous microscopic lines of the disease, molecularly connected by electronic dots. Explorers who have entered here have been known not to come back. Reason surrenders to diatribe. Entire colonies have vanished in huge conflagrations. Dead embers vanish into space, lost in a vast electronic neverland, spreading on for eon after eon past all the stars.