Artistic Diaspora: Rise of the Message

By Nathan Payne | pablosmoglives | 11 Apr 2023

"Where I go I just don't know;
I might end up somewhere in Mexico"
Soul To Squeeze


Diaspora (noun)
a: people settled far from their ancestral homelands
b: the place where these people live
c: the movement, migration, or scattering of a people away from an established or ancestral homeland

Have you noticed the artistic & musical diaspora in the West?  The scattering of art and artists like dandelion seeds lost in a hurricane of heavy dogma and uninspired intent?  The culture-wide replacement of the appreciation of the beauty of the products of the labors of people who have talent in art-i-fice, in "artificial" creation, with those who actually believe themselves to be "creators," and whose idea of "creation" generally consists of homemade videos that promote a message?  Any message?  

I have.

As a one-time practitioner of sonic artifice, all I'll say is, if you can't speak (or think) a universe, black hole, planet, pony, forest, flower, or cold french fry into existence with nothing more substantial than a word (or a thought), you're not a creator.  Nobody is.  

You've been deceived.  It's not a big deal, and I'm not going to malign you.  Welcome to the club.  But if you can't imagine your space-gills into existence, or spontaneously speak organs into being that allow you to breathe dark matter while surfing on wormholes wearing nothing more substantial than a dream, it would perhaps be a worthwhile exercise to ponder the elusive nature of your existence (and the mechanical resources that support it), before you waste another second believing artificial ideas that tell you you're capable of anything as lofty as "creation."    


"My existence is elusive
The kind that is supported
By mechanical resources"


The widely-held, self-important delusion of the "creator" has robbed Western culture of the beauty of true artifice, and replaced it with legions of people who can't tell the difference in "art" and "content;" while the titles "art" and "artist" are based on the secondhand, copycat nature of the work of artifice, whether it's a sculpture, song, or painting, the word "creator" stands alone in its vacuum of self-congratulatory, lowercase godlike, wannabe importance.

Nevermind, of course, that you've never ordered a "content sandwich" at any restaurant anywhere (with the possible exception of a high school cafeteria), or that even postmodern content galleries call themselves "art" galleries.  Those are simply glitches in the matrix.  Ignore them, chalk the whole thing up to unacknowledged cognitive dissonance, pick up your shovel where you dropped it and keep creating the ever-deepening, widening chasm at your feet.  As long as you're not aware you're digging a grave, it's not a grave.  It's not a grave if I say it's not a grave.  It's art if I say it's art.  It's a painting if I say so.  It's not a grave.  It looks like a grave, but really it's a dressing room.  An amphitheater.  A den of friendly, psychedelic lions.  Anything but a sign of the destruction of our entire way of life, a spiritual and intellectual vacuum cleaner that sucks all the beautiful, dissenting dirt out of society, and replaces it with uniform postmodern dogmatic ugliness that believes itself to be clean.


So, what have the creators replaced the artifice with?  Something better, improved, maybe even "new?"  Art?  Music?  Theater?  Dance?  Poetry?  Sculpture?

Nope.  The creators have produced the only thing their unquestioned, default ego setting allows.  Formerly-rolling pastures of bucolic calm (or ecstatic chaos) populated with myriad species of flowers and animals and colorful, innocent children of discovery have been replaced with the heavy-handed, self-imploding buildings endemic to all artless, postmodern wastelands.   Which is, of course, the message.  

Is the message uplifting?  Inspirational?  Or even remotely true?  

You can decide for yourself.  Meaning, you can make up your own mind, as long as you don't fall into the postmodern trap of believing your decision is automatically true for no other reason than that you decided on it.  You can believe whatever you want, but your beliefs aren't automatically true just because they're yours.  

But since we've scattered our artifice to the wind, and replaced it with the message, let's not get stuck in the past.  If this is the age of the message, and art is for free people who believe in individual freedom of action and thought, so be it.  Nevermind Grandfather Dinosaur, and his archaic hangup on beauty and individual expression.  Leave him to his rocking chair, hard-copy printouts of the discolored, low-resolution past, and reruns of Recollection Road.  If this is the age of the message, let's not waste any more time trying to convince a bunch of creatures who think they're creators that they've been duped.   Instead, let's get our message chops up to par, and fight "the message" with "the other message."  

What other message?  

If you are left behind at the Rapture, you will witness the rise of the Antichrist, of course.

With the exception of The Passion of The Christ, I'm generally not a fan of Christian movies.  From any era.  I don't care if Fred Flintstone himself is playing Pontius Pilate, or Marisa Tomei is going to demand John The Baptist's head on a plate while twirling around a stripper pole in a cloud of fishnet mist; Christian films just aren't my thing.  Probably, this is because Christian films don't make any haughty (and to my mind, interesting) claims to the art-i-ficial, but rather are focused on conveying "the other message" as accurately as possible.  "The other message," meaning, of course... the truth.  I appreciate the reasons behind making Christian shows and films, but generally don't have any interest in them myself.   Since this is the age of the message, however, I decided to watch the latest "Left Behind" movie, Left Behind: Rise of the Antichrist.  I have to admit, I was impressed.  As far as the message goes, it doesn't get any better.  I've never seen any of the other Left Behind movies, but I think everybody should watch Left Behind: Rise of the Antichrist at their earliest convenience.


Directed by and starring Kevin Sorbo, Corbin Bernsen from L.A. Law fame, and many others, Left Behind: Rise of the Antichrist is the other message the world needs to see.  It's the antidote to the paradoxical message pushed by the devil and his mainstream, namely the one that tells you you're a creator that should aspire to God-mode levels of confidence, while telling you you're not really you, and to be unhappy in the skin God gave you (thus the suggestion to create your own skin)(gender, etc).  It's nice to see that "the message" isn't a bad thing, necessarily; indeed, when the message is true, not only does it make you forget about the vanity and transience of art-i-fice, but it is actually inspiring.

Not artistically inspiring, but rather, more importantly, the message in Left Behind: Rise of the Antichrist is spiritually inspiring.

"Inspiring" isn't the word.  The word "inspiring" applies to the truth of the gospel message in the same way that the word "creator" applies to a YouTube pundit with 666 in his username.  Or in the inverse way, actually.  

You get the point.

From the American diaspora in Mexico,



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Nathan Payne
Nathan Payne

I am a songwriter and bandleader who travels the world in search of the golden ticket.


Replacing my blog at

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