[begin transmission]

It truly is a wondrous occurrence, Lee Enfield.
To have you so casually walk into my life when you did. Even if it was more of a stumble.
What's even more miraculous is that you were not off-put by my initial belligerence.
You were patient enough to wait through it and allow me to reveal myself in my own time.

Not only in my own time, but in my own way as well. No one 'gets' me quite like you.
Rarely do I have to explain myself nor do I have to apologize for being myself to you.
I credit that to us holding a lot of the same values, therefore we hold a similar understanding of the world.
And when we do disagree, I don't feel any apprehensions about addressing it with you.

It's your discipline and intelligence, I think, that enables us to be so open with each other.
Am I narcissistically complimenting myself through you? Because we're so similar?
In a way, sure. But that isn't the intent here, rather this writing is in recognition of the triumph of you and us.
A timeless, classic, indomitable partnership in the making.

I have to wonder though, had we met through different circumstances,
Would the outcome have remained the same?

[end transmission]

[begin transmission 3/3]

------- Finally...Postmodern Art -------

So, with Modern art being indeterminate in what is the true essence of art, we move into the 1950s - 1990s. It is here that Postmodernism began to gain traction, continuing with the more cynical and strange elements that the preceding Modernism had introduced into the art world, and adding a few new trends of it's own. One of these trends is, in a sense, a continuation of the reductionist developments of Modernism. That is, the targeting of stylistic or medium integrity; as such techniques along the likes of collage (using pieces of other things to make a new thing), décollage (removing pieces of one thing to make a new thing), and bricolage (using different mediums in one piece) began to take prominence. The HSBC HQ building in Hong Kong (designed by Norman Foster) is, in my estimation, the coolest example of this development. Just look at it: the building seems more akin to a battleship rather than a proper skyscraper. The steel modules showcased in its construction were made by ship builders in Glasgow; part of the steel frame on the front of the building resemble twin ladders reaching up to the bridge of a ship; there even appears to be a set of twin anti-aircraft guns at the very top for godsakes! I also adore the fact that they're aimed at the competition's (the Bank of China) building.

HSBC HQ, Hong Kong designed by Norman Foster.

Another trend that caught on in Postmodernist art is the usage of ironic, self-referential content. The aforementioned Erased de Kooning Drawing can be an example of this development, but so can Marcel Duchamp's L.H.O.O.Q. This Duchamp readymade features a postcard depicting da Vinci's Mona Lisa, only with a beard and moustache penciled in. On the performance art side of things, we have Niki de Saint Phalle reproducing the classic Venus de Milo...and promptly filling it full of lead with a .22 caliber rifle. Concealed bags of red and black paint in the reproduction led to the illusion of bloodshed from Venus. It is crucial to recognize that, in pursuing this ironic, self-referential content theme, artists engaged in destruction. This is quite a distinct development from the Modernist project of analyzing and reducing art to come to it's fundamental truth. At least that process still required some sort of novel addition to the canvas, some degree of technical skill, and art was still seen as something to value. In Postmodernist works, the name of the game appears to be taking an existing work or artistic theme and subtracting from it, making it less in some manner, be it through physical violation or esteem degradation through mockery. No clearer is that last sentiment made than by Piero Manzoni's Artist's Shit.

L.H.O.O.Q. by Marcel Duchamp

...This brought me pause when I first learned about it. But essentially Manzoni canned 90 tins of his own feces. Each tin contains 30g of "Freshly preserved produced and tinned" fecal matter. Perhaps even more contemptible is the fact that one of these tins managed to fetch at auction a little over $300k in 2016. Suffice to say, by Manzoni's time, art had lost all reverence and could be reduced to literal shit.

Artist's Shit by Piero Manzoni.

I think that it's these two developments, the violation of stylistic integrity (which invited more varied mediums for art to manifest) and the inclusion of ironic, self-referential content (which lead to an artistic attitude of irreverence and destruction) that formed an ethos of 'shock, disgust, or confuse' among Postmodern artists. Although Pop Team Epic keeps the shock and disgust (along with the preoccupation with bodily waste, thankfully) to a minimum, it still clearly embodies the violation of stylistic integrity and inclusion of ironic, self-referential content.


------- Let's Pop! -------

Of the number of stylistic integrity violations that occur within season one's 12 episode run, the ones that immediately come to mind would have to be the JAPON MiGNON, Bobunemimimmi, and Pop Team 8-Bit segments. These segments each showcase different animation styles: fluid/crisp 2D animation, choppy/haphazard hand-drawn 2D animation, and pixel art animation respectively. Aside from these 'traditional' 2D styles of animation, there are also quite a few live-action sections such as the stop motion music video UchoPeople segments, or the legendary performance art segment of 'Hellshake Yano". Now then, one could consider that none of these styles are violations of the medium in and of themselves; afterall, they're all still forms of animation nonetheless. Though that might be true, it is important to keep in mind the grander context of the show. Your typical PTE episode features around 10-15 segments each episode (double that if you count the alternate voice acting reel as unique segments); it is nearly guaranteed that you'll encounter at the minimum three unique art styles and mediums over the course of twenty minutes. Thus, an episode is much more akin to a video form of bricolage, utilizing mixed media in a single work. This is not something typical of your run-of-the-mill anime that obviously tends to stick to the 2D and drawn animation style, adhering to a single medium.

JAPON MiGNON

Bobunemimimmi

UchoPeople

Hellshake Yano

Distinguishing it further from traditional anime, as stated before, an episode of PTE easily features 10+ segments, and most of these last mere seconds. This is due in part to the nature of the source material: PTE was originally a yonkoma manga (four panel comic, arranged vertically). While there are several anime that are based off of yonkoma, none of them (at least, to my knowledge) strictly adhere to such a shortly segmented presentation. All twelve episodes of season one comprise of these short segments, every last one. This very fact is what enables PTE to use and abuse non-sequitur humor quite effectively, much to the delight or annoyance of its audience. Love it or hate it, it is one of the myriad of ways that the series goes on to flout the standard dramatic form of anime or even plot-involved media in general. You'd be very hard-pressed to find the clear intro, rise, climax, fall, and dénouement in any unitary PTE segment or episode. However, I hesitate in saying that this holds true for the season as a whole, as the very final episode ties back to the first, shoehorning what could be construed as a coherent, overarching plot in the process. Though, yet again, this is another method by which PTE subverts expectations, by releasing a discordant line-up of chaotic, independent episodes only to decide at the 11th hour to suddenly start forming any sense of continuity and direction.

Full disclosure: I'm not keen on contemporary pop culture. I don't keep current on whatever movie, television program, song, book, or video game happens to be in vogue at the moment. I find that it's simply too much to stay on top of and only half of it is of any personal interest to me anyway. But I'd be awfully remiss if I didn't fail to mention the several hundreds of pop culture references PTE manages to make in it's first season. Here's a short sample list of what I could personally identify:

• Nods to Rurouni Kenshin, Pokemon, Skyrim, Super Marios Bros. in episode 01.
• References to Street Fighter, Fantasy Zone, Gradius, and Akira in episode 03.
• Both the films Cool Runnings and Top Gun are referenced, and a cover of Earth, Wind & Fire's Let's Groove is included in episode 04.
• The AMAZING ode to classic Japanese yakuza films of the 1970s, in episode 08.
• References to The Shining and Ju-on in episode 11.

It is also worthy to note that a large portion of the references are things that only Japanese audiences would catch, so even a Westerner keener than I when it comes to pop culture would in all likelihood fail to catch a substantial amount of references. The reason why I am mentioning the abundance of pop culture references in PTE is because it is in line with the Postmodernist trend of being self-referential. While most of these references are indeed meant to pay homage to previous great works, some of them are used satirically to great effect; and as we all know satire invites some form of commentary. The most obvious and probably my favorite example of this is the running gag of the Hoshiiro Girl Drop anime series. Essentially, PTE went satirical right out of the gate; the first episode disguises itself as a light-hearted idol/comedy/romance anime called Hoshiiro Girl Drop, complete with a proper OP segment. At the title card Popuko tears into the screen and the episode begins in earnest. However, at the conclusion of every episode a preview segment for Hoshiiro Girl Drop occurs, endearingly imploring the audience to "Fall in love again next week!".

Hoshiiro Girldrop

From these next-episode previews, it can easily be seen that the creator of PTE, Bkub Okawa, was trying to fit in as many tropes as he could possibly manage. The main character Daichi is your typical, bored, aloof male high school student. The other main character, Sosogu is a peppy, energetic, pink-haired idol singer but somehow no one is aware that she's a celebrity. The previews indicate that your typical romcom/idol anime nonsense take place: Daichi becomes manager for the idol group and begins to fall in love with Sosogu; the idol group faces a rival, edgier idol group; love triangles; your obligatory training retreat and hot springs trip episodes. Some pretty standard stuff, things we've all easily seen hundreds of times before. Near the end of the series, there's even the injection of some last-minute conflict/mysticism, with the revelation that [spoiler] Sosogu actually died to save Daichi when they were children, the process resulting in his loss of all memories of her. Before she died however, they made a promise to each other to get married someday. This strength of this promise led Daichi back to Sosogu, and they fell in love with each other all over again. [/spoiler]

"Hoshiiro Girl Drop Final Episode 'Sosogu and Daichi: A Precious Promise'"
...not quite sure whether I'm to sigh dreamily or roll my eyes at that one.

Again though, this is testament to an element of PTE's genius; it's making you feel conflicted because it's convincing and familiar on first glance but you know that it is satire and overdone on another level. Moreover, the fact that the plot was essentially told through next episode previews speaks to just how overdone these literary elements are. The creation of something new through destruction, the destruction being a form of mockery of tried-and-true, established formulas of the past: this is a quintessential attitude of the Postmodern artist. Some could argue that the result is 'low brow', or that it is in a sense, a cop-out because as we all know, it's generally much easier to destroy than it is to create. It's one of the reasons why every other person is a critic and few are creators. So Postmodern art is generally an invalid, talentless, tasteless product. While I will agree with this, there truly are some hacks that tout their work as 'art' but in reality aren't interested in sincere artistic enterprise, one should be careful not to overgeneralize, unless one wishes to miss out on extracting value from the work that contains significance, that does hold some degree of artistic merit, unorthodox as it may appear. Now, separating the chaff from the wheat, why that's a difficult process to navigate simply because of the misdirection and highly subjective nature of interpretation. As several of my favorite textbooks used to say, that 'is an exercise left for the reader.'.

We're sort of losing the script here. As a reminder, the Postmodern tradition really is a continuation of the reductionist trend of Modernism, which sought to determine what is the essence of art via systemic elimination of elements. Likewise, PTE explores the same idea through the elimination stylistic continuity, traditional plot structure, and the reverent status of other works and the anime medium itself, via satire/self-reference/irony. In my mind, this is why the series is so polarizing: it isn't exactly clear what the hell it is.

"My sweet, simple 2B. Either you're far too easily impressed or you're giving this shitpost of a show way too much credit. It isn't really anything special. Satire, self-reference, breaking the fourth wall has been around forever, and there are numerous films, series, books, etc that poke fun at other things in a cynical manner." That's true, in recent history there has been. But prior to the 1950s, it really wasn't prevalent; Postmodernism popularized it. In the decades since then, media has gotten much more saturated with breaking the fourth wall, parody, self-reference, etc. It only seems ordinary to most of us by now because we were born and steeped in this kind of artistic and cultural environment. So ingrained are these practices that even these once-pioneering themes and methodologies are becoming overdone and passé themselves. Remember how surprising it was when, in Metal Gear Solid (The Twin Snakes), Psycho Mantis could read off of the player's memory card and comment on your affinity towards Super Smash Bros. Melee? Over time, breaking the fourth wall has become a much more common occurrence; it isn't very difficult at all to think up of an example. Why, Doki Doki Literature Club, VA-11 HALL-A, and even NieR: Automata are fairly recent titles that come readily to mind.

And with that last idea, it is with a strange mixture of eager anticipation, horrified disgust, and a semi-open mind that I await to see what new elements will crop up in the art and cultural sphere. What new methodologies and themes will we be able to burn-out our aesthetic appetites on? It seems nearly impossible to imagine, as it appears everything has been already done before. However, if history does indeed follow a cyclical pattern I think it won't be too long before we find ourselves in a similar position as our predecessors of over a century ago.

[end transmission 3/3]

[begin transmission]

Dear You,

It's overcast out; in a place where the sun is shining (if not burning) for nearly 14/7/365, today comes slightly unexpectedly. Maybe this unease is an indicator that I'm finally getting used to my surroundings. Or maybe it's the holiday from work making me feel particularly useless. Who's to say? In any case, melancholy or not, I told you that I would give you my thoughts on current developments between us. I'd been so caught up in day-to-day affairs that I hadn't been afforded the time to give it the focused attention it deserves, but I intend to make good on my promise now.

First, let's say it outright. You lied. You lied to an entire community, you lied to those closest to you. You lied to me. Just to be clear it isn't my intention to shame you into oblivion; I couldn't think of a more nonsensical and stupid act, since it only serves to demoralize and defeat you. What possible use could I have for a defeated you? What possible use could you have for a defeated you? But I will say this: I am judging you. Others in the know are judging you as well. They're assessing you as a person and how you stack up against your own purported ideals, against their own ideals, and are performing the necessary calculus to determine whether you are someone worthwhile or not. Of course, I can't speak for the others (I can estimate, given what I'm aware of), but I can speak with certainty about what I think.

And right now, I can say with certainty that I'm uncertain. I'm torn. Right now, I am not quite sure how to proceed. With that admission, I apologize if I've been difficult for the past couple of weeks, if I've been unusually cold or particularly warm towards you. It's simply because I'm trying to suss out how to approach you, my own feelings, and the feasibility of continuing our relationship.

A large part of my hesitation stems from a violation of credibility. Given that you've told falsehoods for so long, about non-trivial matters, what guarantee do I have that you will not do it again? Especially considering the fact that I've given you several opportunities in the past to come clean when I detected inconsistencies, only to have you lie to me again while swearing up and down that you're being absolutely truthful. Those opportunities were not to be taken lightly or for granted. I do not give passes frivolously. I am saying this with zero animosity towards you, I am saying this without condemnation towards your character. Maybe you can be trusted afterall, but I am not sure if I can personally trust you again. We can be friendly towards each other, we can continue with operations as usual; I'd like that very much. But when it comes to more personal matters, there will always be an inkling of doubt in my mind as to the veracity of your claims. Taking into account how you outright took my first and even second earnest attempts of reconciliation in bad faith, I think that my confidence in you is permanently damaged. If we are to continue our relationship, that would simply have to be an accepted nuisance to bear.

Remember how I had mentioned that I wished to get to know you? That process is now complicated by your actions and is no longer guaranteed. That's an opportunity that you've robbed yourself and me of.

I'm sure I've hinted to you as much before, but I do harbor some bitterness towards you over all of this. The most obvious cause of it is due to the sheer amount of my own time and effort (though let us not forget that of others) that you had wasted. It's upsetting to think how much attention was spent deliberating on matters that were actually non-existent, and the opportunity cost incurred from not being able to address other (some of them critical) issues at the time. These losses suffered are made exceptionally hard to assume when I think about the nature of lying and its implications. It is a tremendous indication of lack of regard towards the intelligence and agency of the person you're lying to. The implication here is something like this: you do not respect the people you are lying to enough to give them the correct information for them to operate on and come to their own decisions. Instead, you think that you can somehow bend and warp the truth of reality to fit your own purposes, to affect their decision-making capabilities to suit your own ends. Effectively, you are reducing everyone you're telling a lie to to a means, degrading them from a person to mere tool or process. The bitterness is only magnified whenever I think about how many times you've told me you've respected me or others, or claimed to care for any of us. A final multiplier to all of this is the massive amount of ego and arrogance that comes with each lie. What else could characterize someone--who thinks that they can take on reality and selectively edit it for their gain--other than arrogance? Reality wins out in the end, no matter what.

Reading back on what I had written, the philosophical implications of lying make the tone much more severe than I had intended. Make no mistake, lying is a great offense but this resentment I harbor towards you has been steadily diminishing as I'm slowly coming towards acceptance of the insults. YoRHa units do not cry over spilt milk. I attribute much of this cooling off towards reflections on my own misdeeds, on my own lies. I can certainly try to understand why people lie and recognize that it can be due to a series of complex motivational factors. That's something that I'd like to hear from you at some point: your motivations. I don't expect you to get back to me on that anytime soon; we might not ever arrive at a tidy, singular answer in fact. I can accept that because living in unresolved tension is a fundamental condition of existence. I'm not sure if others can accept silence on your part and they will insist on an answer (even if it isn't fully thought-out or accurate).

On that note, let us address the others. Some of the people you lied to may not care much at all. Some of them might care quite a bit. How much they care is a function of how close they are to you and how easily they forgive. I've told you that I would not tell anyone about your indiscretions and I intend to uphold that promise. I pledged to do this partially because I wish to preserve some of your honor, but also because I'm not responsible for cleaning up your mess. Now, those that are convinced of a concept known as a 'lie by omission' could argue that by not bringing this truth to light, I'm now an accomplice and lying to everyone else as well. See how much less lying can make of you and the people around you? Anyway, I'm not entirely convinced by the notion of lying by omission, and as I've said before, it is not my responsibility to fix your mistakes. That burden is solely yours: you choose who you'd like to come clean to and to what depth. And the process should be tortuous, it should be difficult; all the more reason why I shouldn't spare you of it with my own intervention. I do, however, recommend that you confess to the people you truly do care about and value with a readiness to accept that your relationship with them may fundamentally change for the better or for worse.

None of this was meant to provide you with comfort nor cause additional distress, I am only telling you were I currently stand. Reading this, I do hope that you retain some composure, towards this end I'll summarize a few takeaways:

• As far as you and I are concerned, we're not through. Though I'd be lying if I said that our dynamic is going to remain the same. If you insist on keeping me in your life, you're going to have to accept some changes.
• You have some work to do, determining who you'd like to come clean to and then actually having those difficult conversations. I suggest going in with the mindset of expecting potentially good or bad changes.
• No more lying. It doesn't do us any good.

It's still overcast, but I want to end this on a more positive note. I'd be remiss if I failed to remind you that you and I have history together, and that it counts for something. It's my firm belief that Lunar wouldn't have stood for this long without you. You've been there every step of the way, helping me in whichever manner that you could. It isn't lost on me, not for one second. Even if my demeanor might come off as cold or even short as I might get frustrated with your personality traits (I'm sure mine frustrate you), I've never once forgotten and never will forget just how much I am indebted to you. 

In so many words, I'd like to keep you around.

-2B

[end transmission]

[begin transmission]

I've never been called a guardian angel before.
What a foreign feeling.

[end transmission]

[begin transmission 2/3]

------- The Thematic Elements of Modern Art -------

Uncertainty around this time had infected nearly everything; nature, God, man, the future, reason--it was simply a matter of time that uncertainty would come to contaminate the arts. Artists began to question just what is it that makes art, art? As stated before, pre-Modern art concerned itself with representing the beauty and splendor of the natural and mythological worlds in as high fidelity as possible. The early Modern artists challenged this notion in two ways: one, by showcasing things that weren't beautiful or awe-inspiring. In fact, many of them chose to illustrate things that begot despair, provoked anxiety, and inspired confusion. Two, the form of the disconcerting subject matter should be just as despairing, anxious, and confusing to match. The piece that unequivocally captures these two departures from traditional art is Edvard Munch's The Scream. Here a quite alien-looking man holds his head in exasperation, presumably screaming at some unseen horror. The liberal use of curves and swirls, the extreme perspective of the riverbed, and a nauseating, dirty color palette suggests that the very structure of reality is coming undone and devolving into chaos. The world isn't as orderly and beautiful as pre-Modern art would have you believe; the Greek pantheon of Gods are not exerting their wills playfully and mankind is not caught in the epic, heroic transaction. The Christian God isn't carefully monitoring His creation from the glory of His kingdom, among the cherubs and archangels. No, instead, man is left to fend for his own, in a universe whose processes aren't due to the will of some supernatural being(s), but of cruel happenstance or unknown, uncaring, deterministic calculation. Reality and the struggle that mankind faces therein is not heroic, ennobling, or comprehensible, but rather pitiable, frightening, and confusing. Reality isn't providential, let alone unified and sensible.

The Scream by Edvard Munch.

In Picasso's Les Demoiselles d'Avignon, women and notions of feminine beauty are turned on their heads as these five nude, Spanish prostitutes are depicted with broad, masculine features. Two of them are even sporting African mask-inspired faces, indicating a touch of brutishness and incivility. Even more unsettling is how all five of them are gazing at the viewer (the one popping a squat, thanks to the abandoned perspective of cubism, is seemingly mimicking Regan from The Exorcist) in a cold, judgmental manner. "Use me then get the hell out." is the idea I get. These are prostitutes, long thought through rosy, romantic sentiment to be compassionate entertainers and sources of sensual pleasure for weary, love-forlorn men. However, Picasso manages to dispel all softness and romanticism from this institution of comfort, not only by his neglect of curves for angles and straight lines, but by demonstrating the contemptuous attitudes of these working girls. In some sense he's illustrating a truer, but far uglier reality. That prostitute you paid for? She's doesn't find you charming. To her, you're only a job. Just as you've reduced her to a means of pleasure, she's reduced you to a means of income. And so it goes, the oft-cited modern theme of people commoditizing each other, with every interaction being a logical transaction, resulting in loneliness and alienation.

Les Demoiselles d'Avignon by Pablo Picasso.

Another popular piece of Modern art is Salvador Dalí's The Persistence of Memory. In this classic piece, a bleak, empty, but unquestionably naturalistic is depicted. Ignoring all of the weird stuff happening in this painting for a minute, it's somewhat apparent that the scene is rendered in a style that is akin to pre-Modern works. The sky looks realistic enough, mountains in the distance look decent, there's a nice barren tree, the crowns on the watches look meticulously crafted and realistic, but while on the watches..."what the actual f*ck? They're melting. That's not normal. And what the hell is that thing on the ground? A log? A goose? A person?". The genius of Dalí's work lies in the juxtaposition of a realistic style, but the inclusion of nonsensical, bizarre content. This creative style is reflective of Freudian psychoanalysis that began to take off in the late 19th to early 20th century. This was a discipline that took a person and their psychology--which Enlightenment-style thinking would have you believe as being ostensibly intelligible, rationality-based and clear--and revealed the counter-intuitive, irrational, and instinctual-based machinery that actually constituted that particular psychology. All of these elements are mirrored in Dalí's work, giving one the sense that, much like mankind, the landscape being portrayed seems almost conceivable, almost sensible, but that there is more depth when analyzed a little closer. When examined under a microscope, things are stranger than first appearances might indicate, with reason providing little in the way of guidance.

The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dalí.

------- The Reductive Aspect of Modern Art -------

A common criticism I've heard regarding Modern art is that it is too pretentious, given what it is. The colloquialism that you might've heard once or twice before is something along the lines of "This is art? It looks like something a four year old could've made!". Such sentiments are generally reserved for pieces that are reductive or deconstructionist in style. While I think the motivation and questions associated with the pursuit of this style are far more interesting than the products of the style themselves, this development is still very salient in any discussion concerning Modern art. As I've said before, the time period was characteristically turbulent, with so many foundations being challenged and the zeitgeist of skepticism in the air. Consequentially, artists wanted to know what made art, art. What is the essence of art? What made it unique from other media or representations such as literature, film, music, etc? So, following an analytic attitude characteristic of Enlightenment-style thinking, they took an elimination-based approach to determine the essence of art. If one could paint something while withholding some kind of attribute, and still have the completed work considered art, then in theory one should be able to methodically withhold additional attributes and slowly converge onto some fundamental axiom of what art is. Thus, Modern art isn't merely defined and confined to what is actually on the canvas, but it is also defined by what is actually not on the canvas. In this development, art is not only defined by presence, but also by absence.

The first stages of this reductionist trend were implemented by some of the aforementioned painters, particularly that of Picasso and Dalí. Their works contrasted with the works of pre-Modern art in the manner that they typically depicted things that are not connected to reality, or have zero human significance whatsoever. The first reduction is essentially content-focused. Okay, so instead of painting naturalistic scenes of bowls of fruit, or dummy thicc Greek goddesses, we turn to painting surreal bowls of fruit and dummy thicc Greek goddesses in a fractured perspective. Absence of connection to the external, real world, check. Either way, it's clearly still art.

Now then, the second development of this reductionist trend was to eliminate the third dimension. Art was traditionally an attempt to capture a three dimensional scene onto a two dimensional plane. But is that representation of a three dimensional scene essentially necessary? Apparently not, as Barnett Newman's Black Fire I shows us that a two dimensional representation on a two dimensional plane can still be considered art. It's perhaps even a 'purer' form of art, since representation of a third dimension isn't exclusive to just painting, but of sculpture. To take this elimination strategy even further, Morris Louis's technique, as shown in Alpha Phi, involved thinning down his paint in order to eliminate texture: a nuanced indicator of the third dimension. Absence of the third dimension, check.

Black Fire I by Barnett Newman.

Alpha Phi by Morris Louis.

With the third dimension eliminated, what else can we remove? Why not composition? Pre-Modern art typically had masterful composition, with subjects and surroundings meticulously placed to give the sensation of space, form, motion, balance, contrast, unity, and emphasis. The 'drip technique' developed by Jackson Pollock effectively removed all thoughtful consideration and intention from artistic composition, by randomly splattering paint on the canvas using forceful limb movements. Implementation of this technique is most clearly seen in his No. 5 piece. So it's right about here where people begin to think that Modern art is something stemming from the mind and motor expertise of a child, hence it isn't art. To this, personally, I disagree. There is much beauty and order to be found through stochastic processes (population coding done by groups of neurons, for example, can reveal stimulus information, emerging through the chaotic, background neuronal noise), though it's a type of beauty that is not immediately obvious. It's more emergent in nature. In any case, absence of composition, check.

No. 5 by Jackson Pollock.

The fourth development of the reductionist trend included the elimination of color and color differentiation. Pre-Modern works usually showcased a wide swathe of colors, demanding great technical skill in faithfully reproducing the near-infinite hues of human skin, capturing the iridescence of the ocean under a midday sun, or illustrating the extent of battle damage sustained on a Roman legate's cape. So, forgoing complex color sets, hues, saturations, luminosities, Modern artists elected to take up simple color swatches. Red Yellow Blue White by Ellsworth Kelly is a good example of this stylistic development, with Kasimir Malevich's White on White the outcome of taking the development to it's extreme conclusion. That is, the complete absence of color; check.

Red Yellow Blue White by Ellsworth Kelly.

White on White by Kasimir Malevich.

Onto the fifth development. This is where things start to get fairly contentious and debatable, as with the works that removed realist content, dimension, composition, and color, one can still make a case for its 'artiness' with relative ease. With this development, the aesthetic, stylistic quality of art is stripped away; art isn't something you see, but something you 'think'. It becomes conceptual, rather than perceptual. A good example of  this would be Robert Rauschenberg's Erased de Kooning Drawing. As the name would imply, the work is merely a near-blank piece of paper, which used to feature an illustration by artist Willem de Kooning, only Rauschenberg erased it. It was Rauschenberg's intention to see if art could be generated from erasure; if a creation could emerge out of an act of destruction. While the answer is ultimately up to subjective interpretation, it sets precedence for the twin notions that art does not necessarily need traditional skills in order to be considered art, and that art doesn't have to be visual. These two notions in my estimation account for a lot of the (delightfully) 'distasteful' essence that became hallmark of Modern art. Absence of aesthetics, check.

Erased de Kooning Drawing by Robert Rauschenberg.

Perhaps removing the 'special' nature of the subject of works of art would reveal something about the truth of art? This was the main thrust of the sixth development, and is perfectly captured by Andy Warhol's Campbell's Soup Cans. You know the one. A series of paintings featuring 32, ordinary, everyday cans of Campbell's soup. The extensive catalog of Campbell's flavors all neatly lined in a 4x8 array, with some kind of underlying social commentary on the mass-produced and cheap culture of capitalism. Quite iconic and known by virtually anyone remotely familiar with Americana. But, of all works that could be considered in-line with this development, I have to say that my favorite is Marcel Duchamp's Fountain. Sure, it's not a painting, but it's still an important contribution to Modern art. Simply put, it is a ready-made, mass-produced, store-bought urinal. The genius of this is that Duchamp himself was an accomplished artist, well-trained and versed in classical technique. He knew of the exactitude and finesse art required, knew that it was revered because of these features and high skill ceiling. Yet he presented a urinal he didn't even make himself for exhibition at the Grand Central Palace in New York. Duchamp's intention here was to demonstrate that the artist is not some excellent creator, the creative process isn't ennobling, nor are the creations themselves special. Cynically, it's all just a bunch of junk that you can piss on. Duchamp's work here is arguably the early 20th century progenitor of your modern day shitpost. Best of all, art critics initially applauded and hailed Duchamp as a great artist, admiring the aesthetic beauty of his 'creation', never doubting if the work truly is art. Effectively, the point here was entirely missed: the objective was to determine why, exactly, this urinal wasn't art. Unfortunately, that question remains unresolved throughout the history of Modern art and remains unresolved to this very day. At any rate, absence of the 'special' status of the artistic subject? Check.

Cambell's Soup Cans by Andy Warhol.

Fountain by Marcel Duchamp.

[end transmission 2/3]

[begin transmission 1/3]

This is going to appear as such a meme post, but to hell with it. Inspiration strikes unexpectedly.

What could a nonsensical anime from Winter 2018 and an art/philosophy movement from the late 1900s have in common?

That is, what qualities could Pop Team Epic (by Bkub Okawa) and postmodernist art and philosophy possibly share?

Okay, that was hard to write with a straight face, but bear with me. This will make sense soon, I promise.

Oddly enough, it was reading the translated OP lyrics that caught my attention. A few samples:

"An idea, lurking in the familiar scenery. You’re always under surveillance."

Hmm. Michel Foucault's reference to the panopticon in Discipline and Punish, comes to mind.

"An unconcious bias. No one knows its reason for being."
"Repeating. Spirographs inside your head. A geometric pattern of creation and destruction."
"It’s an everchanging mandala. Break even your memories into crumbles."

Lacanian psychoanalysis, with an explicit example of The Symbolic.

"Break it into tiny pieces and swap it out~. If it was born from nothing, then go back to nothing! All of it!"
"I want to change the design – gotta break it so you can see."
Faintly reminiscent of Jacques Derrida and Jean-François Lyotard's structuralist criticisms.

Surprised by the amount of postmodernist themes potentially referenced in the OP, I thought for a while of how many of them are actually realized in Pop Team Epic. Could Pop Team Epic actually be a postmodernist masterpiece? Could this explain the polarizing, hate-it-or-love-it nature of the show? By my analysis, yes, PTE is in fact a postmodernist masterpiece in an artistic sense. As such, it violates a lot of our expectations when it comes to art, both visual and literary. It is because of this very reason that I think people have come to despise its nonsensical nature while others have come to adore it.

------- Let's talk about visual art in general for a second -------

I'll be the first to admit it; visual art isn't my domain of expertise. Although I have visited my fair share of galleries, installations, museums, and art walks, by no means am I a leading authority on the matter. Most of these excursions resulted in me trying to appreciate the aesthetic appeal of the piece, the artistic technique necessary to create the piece, or the intended message/profile of the artist of the work. Efforts towards this last objective are greatly augmented by the inclusion of a glass of wine or strong spirit; I highly recommend it. Aside from being a casual admirer of visual art, I'm also no historian or scholar when it comes to the domain either. My knowledge of the niceties between Baroque and Rococo is fairly limited, and I honestly couldn't tell you the difference between Expressionism and Impressionism (well, now I could, since I'd just looked each of them up).

However, for the purposes of this examination, none of that knowledge is strictly requisite. As far as I'm aware, the end of the 19th century saw a fairly dramatic break with traditional forms of art. I'm going to go ahead and label all of the art pre-1880s that fits this traditional style as 'pre-Modern' art. If my rough, base, and careless treatment of these works bothers you at this point, I feel it appropriate to remind you that I'm writing about an anime that has been colloquially described as "one giant shitpost". So get over it. Pre-Modern art, for the most part, deals with nature, the supernatural, myths, conquest, religious themes...all of which has some kind of human significance. In almost all instances, great technical skill was needed on the part of the artist to capture texture, lighting/shadows, perspective, composition, and color, in order to depict these concepts as brilliantly and realistically as possible. Some examples of this type of art would include The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli, or Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog by Caspar David Friedrich.

The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli.

Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog by Caspar David Friedrich.

It is said that pre-Modern art is capable of stirring up the intellect and passions of the observer. That its sheer grandeur and beauty is hair-raising. Personally, I never felt overwhelmingly moved by any pre-Modern piece. There's something to be said about historical context here, that perhaps it was awe-inspiring to the people that lived at the time since the themes were relatively new then, more relevant to them, and/or they had never been visually represented before. Contrast to our time period where these themes have long since been done to death, most of us live a life free from mortal danger/strife (so our appreciation for beauty in normalcy is severely diminished), and we possess technology that constantly bombards us with visual stimuli to such an extent that even the novel becomes passé within a week's time. Despite this, I can say that I still have an appreciation for these works, since the themes presented are timeless and considered universal to some extent. I can look at Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog and feel the conflicting emotions that an uncertain future, with its vast array of possibilities, may bring.

Yet the type of art that rouses my intellect and stirs my emotions the most is what came after the 1880s, after pre-Modern art. This is known as the advent of 'Modern' art. If pre-Modern art was universal, dignified, beautiful, coherent, and inspiring, Modern art is limited, undignified, ugly, irrational, and pessimistic. With good reason too; at the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th nearly everything appeared to be heading towards absolute chaos. What were typically considered traditional institutions, such as religion, were either under heavy attack by Enlightenment-style thinking or completely dismantled. Religion--with it's faith-based answers to the world, the nature of man, and meaning/purpose--had been ravaged by scientific accounts that highlighted the cold, empty, meaningless nature of the universe and mankind's wretchedness against that overwhelming void. New doctrines such as Marxism promised that the revolution would come soon and utopia was on its way; needless to say, that prophecy was never fulfilled, leaving proponents disappointed and disillusioned (Marxist anxiety produces exceptional Modern art). Hell, skeptical epistemologies (thanks, Kant) made people doubt their sensory and cognitive facilities, leading to a rejection of rational thinking. There's a reason why the German traditions of idealism and irrationalism gained traction during this time period.

[end transmission 1/3]

[begin transmission]

How foolish is it to think that you can get away with going against reality, unscathed?

Do you honestly think you can obscure the truth, the state of reality in itself, in perpetuity?

It's a Herculean task and is entirely unsustainable for extended periods of time; you're guaranteed to fail.

What is to be said of the person that derives meaning from that fool's errand?

[end transmission]