Troglodyte Incursion


 

 

Troglodyte Incursion

Enter the great unwashed masses. Sprinting greedy effigies racing past eons of art, music, and literature oblivious to beauty serenading a few keen chosen listeners. Rampaging ill-mannered thoughtless grotesques concerned with filling swollen bellies with endless Pablum unable to digest nutrient rich low hanging fruit readily displayed within the garden.

Plodding, pushing and heaving along like a sea of hairy troglodytes with cameras suspended from no neck bodies. Vermin with whose wallets and purses are ready ATMs doling out money for designer duds and Apple technologies.  Lipsticked hydras crashing colliding corridors rampaging through the galleries like so many porcelain shop bulls.

Gargoyle
Gargoyle

 

Sentinels posted to hold bay destructive stretched out grasping talons.  Buy! Buy! Buy! Said the Barker to the throng who willingly sell the souls to the highest bidder. Comical costumed gargoyles begging for Fashion Police disciplinary action.

Pungent Yeti-Sasquatch body odors invading my space. Breath like fire lit manure emanating from their unbrushed oral cavities. Their joint cavernous maws eating, chewing spitting belching pollution into once refined atmospheres.  Mischievous imps on hunting expeditions looking to capture but never to absorb. Cramming for ungiven exams thereby failing all cultural and social graces. Not once pausing to study only to add to collections trapped in snapshot memories bound for jealous friends and relatives who failed to make the pilgrimage.

Yes tomorrow returns of the holidaymakers who desecrate the House of Learning.

CLICK!


Spider web moon lit night
Spider web moon lit night

Art is both a window into the past and a portal to the future.  But tourist cellphone camera incessant  obsessed picture taking visitors to the House of Order and Learning neither see the beauty before them or view slices of history, science, fashion, politics, sociology, economics or religious passion plays of life being acted out in single snatches of time.

The suffer from blindness of the soul and spirit that no oculist can cure.

They Refuse to Drink from the Well of Wisdom or eat fruit from the Tree of Knowledge for fear that their eyes may be opened and the Wall of Delusions collapse into Dust.

Seeking to capture personal notoriety, authority and fame vicariously through corruption camera filter brutish minds unchanged and unchallenged by purity of mind and purpose.

Forever caught in the spider web of Tourist Trap Disneyland manufactured Coney Island Barkerville of Samsara sitting at the feast yet unwilling to eat or absorb life giving mind expanding sustenance settling instead for bitter crumbs ejected from dated tour books.

Spider-woman DeBorah
Spider-woman DeBorah