These things make a lot of sense, or they make a lot of sense in their disused sense, or the contemporary constant of so much fractured meaning and importance, redundantly prescient - like emijos, unbelievably cute, still doesn’t mean we’re going to take the time learning anything about them, the world a vast place comprised mostly of nonmeaning and unbearable, and here instead placed into the vacuous fracture of the non-sense of so much visual culture, we simply can’t be made to care, the distraught pathos (these things definitely have a pathos) of realizing that it might all be beyond our ability to consume in total, and so give up a little bit and bathe in the emptiness, a more sympathetic Jordan Wolfson.
