MARK didn't really leave a Mark

(Note: Photo of Mark Fisher by Cilla Blackledge.)

Obituaries are fun. First off, you see that somebody croaked and it wasn't you.

Millions don't even get an obit, of course. Many more have to have a loved one PAY to get a paragraph into the paper.

Thanks, however, to the dubious world of FREE WEBSITES, jerks of limited fame do get tributes. "Magic Alex" died and sure enough, while newspapers ignored his trivial, stupid life, WEBSITES duly mentioned his antics with The Beatles, the rumors of his flirting with Mia Farrow and fucking Cynthia Lennon, and how he managed to swindle Arab bastards in his old age by selling creepy sheiks bullet-proof cars. They weren't bullet-proof. Too bad.

Today Googly-Goo-Goo Google assured me that I'd care about an AUTHOR who died. Mark Fisher. Yeah? Never heard of him.

What the FUCK did he write?

"Capitalist Realism: Is There No Alternative?"

Wow, a regular Roland Pinhead, using all them big words, signifying NOTHING.

In college, we used to refer to pseudo-intellectual exercises like that as "verbal masturbation."

I guess they didn't think that way in HULL. Yes, Marky-Mark earned his B.A. in English and Philosophy at the University of Hull.

What a fuckin' genius.

What, you ask IS "Capitalist Realism" as defined by the great, now dead Marky-Mark?

"....a pervasive atmosphere, conditioning not only the production of culture but also the regulation of work and education, and acting as a kind of invisible barrier constraining thought and action."

(Thanks for finding his quote, Roland!)

Just how much of an obfuscating fuckhead was this guy? He wouldn't even give out his birth date. Here, in the 21st Century, when everybody's information is all over the Internet, and nobody has privacy, and you can't get a fucking credit card or get a dentist to look at yer tooth without giving up EVERY detail, Wikipedia didn't have a birth date! This prissy piece of dried piss was 47 or 48. They DO agree he DIED the other day.

Like most pompous egomaniacs, Marky Mark had a choice. He could be an obscure fart like Darren Lock, and have a job cleaning toilets or something, while gurgling on GooTube about his worthless opinons, OR, he could be an obscure fart with a poshy poncy toffee-nosed DAY job, and thereby be free to BLOG his shit and get it published via no-pay book companies that rely on sales to libraries. He chose the latter.

He worked in the "Department of Visual Cultures" at Goldsmiths, University of London. Academia is a refuge to which the coward clings. IF I'M BEING HONEST, if Fisher didn't hide in a University, lecturing on nonsense in front of a few pasty-faced fellow virgins, he would have been nothing more than another Darren, opening up Harry Potter memorabilia and describing it in maddening detail to a small circle of GooTube subscribers. He'd be living with his mother and constantly whining that she wasn't buying him enough Harry Potter memorabilia to keep his video blog up to date.

Marky Mark created HIS valuable blog back in 2003, called "k-punk," and WHAT you ask, is HIS idea of "punk" and music writing? Wiki explains: "In 2009, Fisher edited the critical collection The Resistible Demise of Michael Jackson." I guess the book was resistible to any sales in book stores.

The point of the book? To resist thinking that the King of Pop is actually dead? To remain in Never-Neverland? To take this freakish singer seriously? Or was this a socio-psychological account of the mass hysteria of the media in focusing on a half-black half-white half-man half-woman when they should be concerned with Capitalist Realism??

Right after the Jackson job, he published his "magnum opus" which Wiki describes as "indebted to an Althusserian conception of ideology, as well as to the work of Frederic Jameson and Slavoj Žižek." I was going to say the same thing, but I don't have a fork in my head.

I could NOT make this up. Mark's windy notion of "Capitalist Realism" was praised as a "hegemonic ideology, operating as all hegemonic ideologies do, to try to efface their own historicity and the contingency of the social arrangements which they legitimate."

Marky Mark the nearly 50 year-old virgin published with the appropriately named Zero Books company.

People find comfort in obituaries. Obits give a last testimony on someone's worth, as if the person's life meant something. More than that, they confirm that the fucking asshole is NOT going to keep being a fucking asshole anymore.