Amazing insight and great context for this moment in time.
Postmodernism started as an assault on capitalism, or at least it’s materialist, modernist, underpinnings. But in the end, all it did was dissolve whatever semblance of moral barriers were left, standing against it, as the machine assimilated postmodernism (and all of the rage against it) as its own philosophical weapon of choice.
We’re now living in a world where everything feels recycled—movie remakes, endless remixes. Loops of remixed loops, stuck in a revival of past trends, dark theme to light theme, square icon gets the edges rounded again—novelty/nostalgia. But underneath this surface-level cycle is something much heavier: a deep sense of exhaustion, a feeling that we’ve run out of steam both culturally and politically, a sense that the entire world has been hollowed out a spiritual and cultural void— a corpse bride that we keep dressing up for the wedding, pretending she still has a pulse.
Back in the '80s, there was still a glimmer of hope with, even though any truly existing alternative to this dystopian tragedy was barely holding on. Class conflict was exposed for all to see, but the repeated defeats of unions and the labor movement gave way to what we now call capitalist realism. This wasn’t just a practical shift—it was symbolic. The message was and is clear: “There is no alternative.” And eventually, most people stopped looking for one. Kurt Cobain included. Like many others, he realized he didn’t like the rules of the game and didn’t want to play anymore.
The system has become so efficient at absorbing everything outside itself that it’s now facing a new kind of crisis. With no more frontiers to colonize, no external opposition to crush, what’s left for us to devour?
For most folks in the West, the idea an alternative isn’t even part of the conversation anymore. Republican or Democrat, Coke or Diet. This demon doesn’t just shape the world we live in—it shapes what we can even imagine. Once, there was a resistance to advertising and the commodification of all things penetrating our subconscious. Now, we don’t even notice it. It’s just... there. Everywhere.
It’s tempting to romanticize the recent past, to think that things were more open, more alive with possibility. But this process has been at the heart of US culture for decades, if not implicit in materialist political liberalism itself.
The co-opting of rebellion has been going on quite a while as well. Not only did Cobain realize that what sold the best on MTV (and in the music industry) was a protest against MTV and the music industry—a maddening trap that forced him to face the reality of becoming a caricature of himself—What’s changed now is that the system doesn’t wait for subversive ideas to pop up and then crush them—it heads them off at the pass. It formats and shapes our desires before they even emerge. 'Alternative' and 'independent' aren’t outside the mainstream anymore; they’re its most marketable features.
Kurt Cobain. He was the poster child for our realization of this whole existential crisis. His frustration, his anger—it wasn’t aimless. It came from a place of knowing that every move he made was being packaged and sold before he even made it. His entire post-fame career was trapped in a vicious cycle: any act of rebellion was immediately absorbed into the very system he was trying to fight.
This was the postmodern condition Jameson warned us about—where all innovation feels impossible because everything has already been done. All that’s left is to rehash the past, to speak in the voices of those who came before us. Success in this world doesn’t feel like victory anymore; it feels like selling out, because once you’ve hawk tuah’d, you’re just the next thing to be commodified. But hey. At least you have a bit more money. #blessed
Cobain’s death was the final nail in the coffin for rock’s subversive and utopian dream.
What has come after has been wave after wave of pastiche repetitions and fusions of old forms, but this time with the angst aesthetically bottled, branded, and reborn, in the style of Cobain.
Amazing insight and great context for this moment in time.
Postmodernism started as an assault on capitalism, or at least it’s materialist, modernist, underpinnings. But in the end, all it did was dissolve whatever semblance of moral barriers were left, standing against it, as the machine assimilated postmodernism (and all of the rage against it) as its own philosophical weapon of choice.
We’re now living in a world where everything feels recycled—movie remakes, endless remixes. Loops of remixed loops, stuck in a revival of past trends, dark theme to light theme, square icon gets the edges rounded again—novelty/nostalgia. But underneath this surface-level cycle is something much heavier: a deep sense of exhaustion, a feeling that we’ve run out of steam both culturally and politically, a sense that the entire world has been hollowed out a spiritual and cultural void— a corpse bride that we keep dressing up for the wedding, pretending she still has a pulse.
Back in the '80s, there was still a glimmer of hope with, even though any truly existing alternative to this dystopian tragedy was barely holding on. Class conflict was exposed for all to see, but the repeated defeats of unions and the labor movement gave way to what we now call capitalist realism. This wasn’t just a practical shift—it was symbolic. The message was and is clear: “There is no alternative.” And eventually, most people stopped looking for one. Kurt Cobain included. Like many others, he realized he didn’t like the rules of the game and didn’t want to play anymore.
The system has become so efficient at absorbing everything outside itself that it’s now facing a new kind of crisis. With no more frontiers to colonize, no external opposition to crush, what’s left for us to devour?
For most folks in the West, the idea an alternative isn’t even part of the conversation anymore. Republican or Democrat, Coke or Diet. This demon doesn’t just shape the world we live in—it shapes what we can even imagine. Once, there was a resistance to advertising and the commodification of all things penetrating our subconscious. Now, we don’t even notice it. It’s just... there. Everywhere.
It’s tempting to romanticize the recent past, to think that things were more open, more alive with possibility. But this process has been at the heart of US culture for decades, if not implicit in materialist political liberalism itself.
The co-opting of rebellion has been going on quite a while as well. Not only did Cobain realize that what sold the best on MTV (and in the music industry) was a protest against MTV and the music industry—a maddening trap that forced him to face the reality of becoming a caricature of himself—What’s changed now is that the system doesn’t wait for subversive ideas to pop up and then crush them—it heads them off at the pass. It formats and shapes our desires before they even emerge. 'Alternative' and 'independent' aren’t outside the mainstream anymore; they’re its most marketable features.
Kurt Cobain. He was the poster child for our realization of this whole existential crisis. His frustration, his anger—it wasn’t aimless. It came from a place of knowing that every move he made was being packaged and sold before he even made it. His entire post-fame career was trapped in a vicious cycle: any act of rebellion was immediately absorbed into the very system he was trying to fight.
This was the postmodern condition Jameson warned us about—where all innovation feels impossible because everything has already been done. All that’s left is to rehash the past, to speak in the voices of those who came before us. Success in this world doesn’t feel like victory anymore; it feels like selling out, because once you’ve hawk tuah’d, you’re just the next thing to be commodified. But hey. At least you have a bit more money. #blessed
Cobain’s death was the final nail in the coffin for rock’s subversive and utopian dream.
What has come after has been wave after wave of pastiche repetitions and fusions of old forms, but this time with the angst aesthetically bottled, branded, and reborn, in the style of Cobain.
That was a homily!
Once again…FANTASTIC! What an incredible journey through time via rock and history with a dash of angst.
Cool shit, Jason. I enjoyed this very much.