dada
Da-da. D-ada. Dad-a. Tadaa! A Dadaist poem. Dada? Is it baby talk or a rocking horse? No, of course not. Or, well, maybe. Elite art and pretentious art critics? They make no sense! You don't have to make horrors and misery poetic or beautiful. Humans are horrible, and the world can end just like that: war shows us this daily. Dada is anarchism as an art movement. Against loftiness and positive aesthetics. Everything is art, and everyone is an artist. Open your ears and eyes and hold on to the hobbyhorse of surrealism!