Monday, March 31, 2008


JERUSALEM (AP)--Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice on Sunday branded Zimbabwe's president a "disgrace" to Africa and expressed concern about whether the country held free and fair elections. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Sunday, March 30, 2008


"NEON"--Black & White Abstract Photography by KEVIN POSTUPACK will be on display at our fave COFFEE ON THE CORNER in beautiful downtown Staunton, Virginia beginning Monday, March 31 through Saturday, May 31st. This is the first time this series has been publicly displayed! (For a slideshow go to under "Photography".)

Thursday, March 27, 2008


"That ain't workin'! That's the way to do it! Money for nuthin'!" So goes the line from the old Dire Straits song. In the news recently is the 20-something college dropout who founded "Facebook" and turned down an offer of one billion dollars from Yahoo for its purchase. Now what exactly is "Facebook" one must ask, other than a glorified bulletin board? The people who join it do all the work! They put up all the blurbs about how they like bagels but dislike croissants. They post all the photos from their latest vacation, photos that everyone on Earth is just dying to see! In fact, the entire contents of Facebook is provided by its members, yet somehow this entrepreneurial genius 20-something college dropout gets the one billion. Oh I forgot, he turned it down (as experts say it's worth at least ten!) My question is, and imagine this shouted through one of those 20 foot-long Alpine horns from a mountain top in the Swiss Alps, "HOW THE FUCK CAN SOMEONE MAKE A BILLION DOLLARS BY IN ESSENCE DOING NOTHING?!" In today's world, if you make an Internet template on which teenagers and college students can talk about last night's date then you are in line for a mega-bonanza. Yet as far as I know, no one ever asks, "What exactly have they created?", or rather, "Is Life really that good?" It certainly is for the two 20-somethings who made "Life is Good" t-shirts and other endless paraphernalia. Only in America can someone become multi-millionaires by marketing a completely banal, insipid, vacant catch-phrase and having the masses gobble it up. So I must pose the question: What does this do for you, those of you who proudly wear this ubiquitous slogan on your t-shirts? Does it announce to everyone that you are woefully out of touch with world events? Life is indeed not that good in most places. (Ever hear of Baghdad?) How 'bout life is good for a Mexican immigrant? For an African with AIDS? For a woman in the United States concerned about her reproductive rights? The list is endless. Or perhaps the "Life is Good" t-shirt is a testament to pure narcissism: "Who gives a shit about anyone else! For me, life is good!" To greed: "I made my million, and I deserve it, so life is good, goddamn it! (And fuck the lazy slackers!") To solipsism: "I am so self-absorbed as to be the center of my own universe, and as God looked out, so do I and say, 'Life is Good!'" These things make me wonder if Americans are perhaps the stupidest, most gullible (and egocentric) people on the planet. But maybe I'm just going about it the wrong way. Perhaps I should start my own Internet template. Call it "Life Sucks" where everyone bitches and moans about how shitty things are, and everyone will log on to everyone else's site to see who has it worse off than they do! Or perhaps I can call it "My Self-Indulgent Life with Lots of Crappy Boring Photos", and then I can just sit around and wait for Yahoo to make me an offer...

Monday, March 24, 2008

KRONOS Undercover...

KRONOS went undercover to Staunton's Adult Video Store to see what all the fuss was about and here is what we discovered. The door creaked ominously as we stepped inside onto a dirt floor with what looked like bones scattered here and there--although it's hard to see in the dim light, the place lit by a single burning torch. The walls from what we could make out were old stone with rusted chains hanging from them like one would find in a dungeon. And in fact, screaming was heard at times coming from the back room, leading us to believe that human sacrifices might be taking place. There were countless monoliths positioned around the dirt floor like a kind of Stonehenge; giant phalluses hewn from rock, some 5 or 6 feet high, with pentagrams carved into them. In the background, what sounded like medieval chanting (along with the screaming). In one corner, a group of five or six half-naked lesbians were gathered in a circle around a goat, all holding what looked like daggers (except for the goat). The smell in the air was thick, acrid, impenetrable--of burning incense, blood, decaying flesh, napalm, and what smelled like a Subway meatball sandwich. On the counter were dusty leather-bound books. Upon closer inspection we saw the Kabbala, the Koran, the Communist Manifesto, the Utne Reader (and most surprisingly an "Art Is Dangerous" bumper sticker!). The man behind the counter was a hunchback, his body covered with leprous sores, his voice a primal, almost unintelligible grunt. It was at this point that we wondered if we'd indeed make it out of there alive, and at that moment a deafening sound crushed our ears, what could only be described as Marilyn Manson meets a bulldozer, and we fled for our lives!

So there you have it, our unbiased account of our time spent in what might be the unholiest place on earth...

Friday, March 21, 2008


They're young, they rock, and they might just be the next NIRVANA!

Wednesday, March 19, 2008


Our fair city had a renowned luminary from the art world last night--Janine Antoni, an artist from New York City. She brought with her some really prestigious awards (which was why the local college brought her here in the first place). Aside from painting with her head (as the poster below attests) she also does artwork with lots of other body parts as well. As to whether the resulting artwork is any good or not is another story. (But did I mention she has those prestigious awards?) She also has a derriere that is reminiscent of Catherine Zeta-Jones in the trailer for that awful movie "Entrapment". In fact, if we could pan up the poster below we would see all the people behind her staring intently at her butt. But like all good artists she doesn't want to be pigeon-holed, so in a more recent piece she lies naked in a bathtub, all attractive and slim, while nearby cows walk around, ruminate, and occasionally stop by for a drink of her bath water. This raises several questions. One, how exactly is this art? And two, would she still get these really prestigious awards and exclusive NYC gallery representation if she were fat and unattractive? I submit that Janine Antoni is the founder of a new school of modern art--"Attractivism"--where one can do whatever pops into their heads as long as they look really hot while doing it! After all, the process is what it's about, and who wouldn't want to see some slim hot naked babe lying in a bathtub or gyrating around the floor in a black skin-tight cat suit!

Monday, March 17, 2008


(click on image to enlarge)

"FLAG"--kevin postupack

22"x28 1/2" Drywall, spackle, acrylic, oil can on canvas board.


With the 5th anniversary of the War in Iraq, KRONOS would like to reflect on the lyrics to the song "The Green Fields of France" by Eric Bogle (most recently recorded by the Dropkick Murphys).

Well how do you do young Willie McBride
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside
And rest for a while in the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day and I'm nearly done
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the great fallen in 1916
Well I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or Willie McBride was it slow and obscene

Did they beat the drum slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined
And though you died back in 1916
To that loyal heart you're forever 19
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Forever enshrined behind some old glass pane
In an old photograph torn tattered and stained
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame


The sun's shining down on these green fields of France
The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance
The trenches have vanished long under the plow
No gas no barbed wire no guns firing now
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man
And a whole generation was butchered and damned


And I can't help but wonder no Willie McBride
Do all those who lie here know why they died
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars
Well the suffering the sorrow the glory the shame
The killing and dying it was all done in vain
Oh Willie McBride it all happened again
And again and again and again and again


Wednesday, March 12, 2008


White-walled art galleries make me sick. It isn't the color (or rather, non-color) of the walls per se (although certain colors like red or the bright yellow favored by Gauguin make for excellent backdrops for artwork). It's just that most art galleries have white walls because there is a preconceived notion of what art galleries are supposed to be like, and having white walls is an integral part of the formula. In addition, they are pristine places--almost antiseptic--run by well-dressed people who are most likely not artists themselves, and who may or may not know very much about art. Their expertise is more along the lines of knowing rich people who tell them what kind of art they will buy, and they (the gallery owners) dutifully obey like the dog fetching the stick for its master. The white-walled gallery caters to the rich, to the point of it even looking like a place where rich people would feel at home--a place reeking of snobbery and exclusivity. The white-walled gallery is not a place for artists. Sure, there is art in these art galleries, but it is a particular kind of art. I just Googled "NYC art galleries", and of the first ten galleries I clicked on at random, not one had a place on their website for artists to contact them in order to submit work for consideration. Not one. So this must mean that these are sacred places, with rarefied wall space to be occupied by only the privileged few and the anointed. A place so exclusive that an artist out of the loop cannot even contact them. A place so special that most artists to them are invisible.

What is it about human beings that makes us seek exclusivity? An extreme example would be the Nazis trying to "Aryanize" the world. And we see it every day now as religious fanatics focus their attention on (which usually means blowing up or otherwise killing) the other--those that aren't them. The blasphemers, infidels, heretics. Back in high school there were the "in crowds" and those who wanted to be in the "in crowds". Unfortunately, high school never seems to end, as in the real world of grown-up adults there are still the "in crowds" and the rest of us. It takes no degree in Psychology to know that people feel better about themselves if they are part of an exclusive group. They have something that others do not, and this feeling can be intoxicating. But when do we grow up? When do we leave high school behind with all its petty concerns?

The white-walled Manhattan art galleries are not about art. In fact, one can make the case that they are "anti-art" galleries, since the true spirit of art is only there by accident. And what do we make of those artists who are a part of this gated community? Money and prestige have been known to change people, sometimes quite dramatically. And if an artist panders his talent for a ready sale or lives and dies by his accolades his integrity must be called into question. This is why such galleries are dangerous. The white-walled gallery is a place of predictability by definition (since rich people like what they like, and if the gallery offers things too divergent from this then the rich people take their checkbooks elsewhere). And predictability and art is not a good match. But, some might argue, don't these (so-called) high-end galleries offer the artist something to aspire to, something to work towards? This argument completely ignores the fact that these places are not really about art, or are about art "after the fact", meaning that they would salivate over a Van Gogh while being oblivious to the Van Goghs of today (who can't even contact them to submit their work). The galleries set themselves up as ultra-exclusive, which gives them a self-bestowed cachet. And therefore, the lucky artist who is accepted by them receives their "imprimatur" and this entree into a rarefied world whose singular distinction is that people here actually buy art for lots of money. And for the average artist, this is hard to resist, so they ignore the rest, like any good co-dependent relationship.

At this point I would like to offer up a viewpoint not shared by many. I don't believe that exclusivity in art does anything to advance art and culture. One, because I don't believe that the white-walled gallery owner has something as noble as the long view in mind. Two, that since most artists exist outside of this world then by definition the good and great art they produce will be separate from it as well. (Until of course, they somehow become known.) And three, that since the white-walled gallery typically values an artist's credentials above all things, this makes it a place where one is not encouraged to think for oneself. A Guggenheim or a MacArthur in one's resume renders critical thinking redundant. And few ever question how exactly these awards are bestowed. In conclusion, I'll say that if art galleries are about art, then they must be about artists as well, and this means that somehow they must make discovering new and unknown artists a vital part of their raison d'etre. This will lead to inclusion and better art, since it will no longer be inbred but chosen from a wide and varied gene pool. And who knows, it might even lead to a red, green, or yellow wall or two and an art gallery that the average person can stand to be in, and might even enjoy. After all, is art for the rich, or is it for everyone?

Monday, March 10, 2008


President Bush just vetoed an anti-torture bill that would prohibit "waterboarding" and other "alternative" interrogation techniques.

Well, since our fearful leader has given the green light on torture, we here at KRONOS felt we should get in the spirit of things and torture everyone with this work from our personal fave, "the artist" JEFF KOONS... ENJOY!!!

Sunday, March 9, 2008

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Quote of the Month (March)

"Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge." --Gauguin