A BRIEF HISTORY ON INDIOLAND ART

A Historical View on Art in Indioland
by Professor Orob L. Rammorris III Ph.ud. (Philosophy undergraduate)

or Art in Indio Land. A Primer
Music of Indio published separately and masquerading as a religious pamphlet...



Introduction.

Art can never be classified according to the Book of Senile Wisdom published in the late summer solstice last year. To think of such is highly erratic and horrendous at first reading but actually this is quite true to some point. The classification of art pervades even the most antique and backwards society as seen in book published by the self-proclaimed Nietzsche's reincarnation, Mr. Antonio Gordon. In recent archaeological evidences dug up quite recently last morning, that would be yesterday from today's date -- the art of Indioland has its roots in history.

In this article, which shall be the last of many firsts, we shall try to explore the history of Indioland art and the history behind it, which in any case owing to the nature of the space provided to the author shall be hereby brief, concise, short and most of can be easily finished within a reading or two in the loo.


PART I. The Roots

Indioland has been a hotbed of underrated artists and writers. Most of them have been so underrated that they have achieved international status as doctor's apprentices and care takers of senile old foreigners. But in the beginning it was not quite so. Looking at the unpublished history of Indioland, one can find that the roots of modern art have been prominently and vehemently practiced by Indioland's inhabitant's ancestors.

According to several true fabricated stories, the art scene in Indioland started out as a way of people expressing themselves after imbibing on too many a hallucinogenic herbs and medicinal plants. Also added to the compendium is the fact that early Indioland inhabitants had nothing else to do in the wee hours of the afternoon and hence gave birth to another proudly indigenous Indioland culture -- toad licking and ass kissing the local corrupt datu's henchmen.

It was in the early days before the arrival of the circumnavigators/circumcisers, that the art achieved its pinnacle before being wiped by the white cross toting bastards. The skill of the eralier inhabitants of Indioland epitomized the expressionistic and tree-hugging habits of the earlier inhabitants of the archipelago. Several of the earlier forms of art still are present today, displayed prominently on the long forgotten cabinets of several museums, gathering dust and mildew. It was during that period, the Renaissance of Paleolithic Indioland Art, that many of the original arts and sounds so prominently Indiostic emerged. Naked men and women carved prominently on Freudian pieces of wood, erotically carved symbols on trinkets, ornate jewelry methodically arranged on fertility symbols and weapons of low-scale man-to-man destruction were the foremost products of primitive Indioland culture.

The ICE-BORG

Primitive Indioland Art however was to disappear for a brief moment of about five hundred or more years before being revived by indigenous yuppies and hackers. This brief disappearance is attributed to the white men on big, large, huge boats filled with seamen -- The (S)PANISH (different from the SPANISH as in this case the S is silent). The Panish had come from the other side of world, where it was civil to burn women on stakes, raise an inquisition and of course sing around the inquisition singing hymns of joy. The Panish had come bearing civilization with them for the mere price of total servitude and circumcision. During this point in history the Panish assimilated every known inhabitants of Indioland and to resist was futile. (For more on the history of Indioland, see INDIOLAND: A HISTORY)

Indioland art now was deemed pagan and vile by the new conquerors of Indioland and thus was subjected to several categories. The categories of artists during that period were:

tae: noobs!

insuredes: the insured ones.

mescalineres: hallucinogen inspired.

ilustradores: artist who specialized in capturing the essence of the essence of society. The illustators.

traidores: traitors to the cause.

penandinksulares: old school.

The rapid categorization of the Indioland art scene, caused the Panish to gain the upper ground as the imposed hierarchy on the local artists bred civil strife within the locals. It was only during the late decline of the Panish empire that the groups had relative freedom and access to visas and had the opportunity to expand on their styles. It was quite notable that several of Indios had the opportunity to travel to other continents and thus achieved fame, fortune and an early death via malnutrition, starvation and tuberculosis. Though some were lucky, they only got the firing squad.

Art during the period of the Panish was more baroque and focused merely on the colonizers' native religion. It was only in the late years of their dictatorial regime that most artist became fed up and started a several revolutions that was quickly stifled, hence the birth of the phrase: the musket is more powerful than your pen.

Amongst the most prolific and prominent was a native of the northern Areas of Indioland, a doctor whose name I forgot. He was one of the Indioland's best known artist, artist, essayist, debater, sculptor, doctor, womanizer, innovator, inventor...blah blah blah. When he published a raunchy highly erotic book on revolution, he was hunted by the Legion of Self-Righteous Panish Revolutionary Kill Joys. He was only given a simple execution which the other known artists of Indioland envied since they were dying a slow death somewhere else. This spurred the other artists to die even more prominently than the person-so-famous-I-forgot-his-name.


Then in an act of vile Judas-ism the Panish seeing that they could no longer stifle freedom of press and self-expression decided to bail out on Indioland. Thus came the new colonizers -- MacArthur's Fried Chicken and Restaurant. With the arrival of MacArthur's Fried Chickens and Restaurants, denizens of Indioland breathe more easily for five seconds before being stifled again. The artists themselves were forced once again to adapt and learn MacArthur's Fried Chickens and Restaurants lingo and their style of art.

Art gained a new style during the occupation period of MacArthur's. They know pictured scenic scenes of green freshly doled out dollar bills, hot dogs and hamburgers and the joys of obesity. The artists during this period had a good time with advertisements and more and thus heralded an era of billboards and signs.

PART 2. THE AGE OF MACARTHURISM to be continued on next issue followed by PART III. THE RISE OF SAKANGZILLA and PART IV. SAGANISM

The Magical Cigarette
by Ike Villaruel





Ever smoke cigarettes?

I know I do. Do you?

Cigarettes are like the perfect examples of life.



The cigar starts it life in the most simplest state. From the humble tobacco plant, it becomes one when it is rolled and then implanted on the belly of the pack's womb. There it waits. With the help and assistance of practitioners of their art, they are born unto this world fresh from their mother's belly. Elegant. Sleek. Bold.

The moment the flame of wisdom lights up the cigarettes it is in its first moments experiencing the grandeurous affair with life. Its life slowly ebbs by. Releasing its flavorful and aromatic essence, it is kin to everything that walks, crawls, swims and flies on this earth, exposing a wonderful substance that makes life livable.

There comes a point in which the cigarette enters the midline of its life. This is where we can see him in his prime. The robust, rotund flavor which was kept locked inside the cigar suddenly bursts into a wonderful myriad of flavors. The sweetness is divine. The joys infinitesimal. Surely there is no better ambrosia than the intoxicating bliss it gives.

Like all things that sprung upon this fateful world, the cigar too has its ends. The sourness and bitterness of all things comes at last in its fateful end. The once glowing embers of the tobacco slowly falter and doesn't give warmth and solace. The smoke slowly whiffs away until it disappears towards the ceiling. It is the end.

Like human beings, cigarettes too are illusory metaphors of our own existence on this planet. Every day is a single stick of cigar.We are given the oppurtunity to live life everyday . Everyday we can choose whether to light up our life and live or choose to stay in the pack till another day. Either we light it and die or die trying.

UNDERWOOD POSTS

the art and life of Ike Villaruel