So what's in a title? Does it mean fuck advocacy as in advocacy sucks, or does it mean the advocacy of the word fuck (and its meanings), or does it mean advocacy of "fuck" as a cultural object that is imbued with many meanings but is inherently vulgar regardless of usage. Or maybe it means that we should embrace fuck's diversity as a template, its clarity and lack-of-clarity, and use that as a basis for art. Advocacy for its towering wrongness and yet such glistening robustness. You can't keep it out of your sight or out of your mind and once it's said out loud it's all over. Things that make one person laugh and another uncomfortable. The title also might suggest a self-defeating nature to this entire endeavor, as if this is rooted in nihilism and the understanding that nothing will change. Absurdism. I write this, and I accept the void into which I send it. "Fuck it." That's true, at least. I'll proceed anyway, if only to amuse myself. If you really need to think about the title, then perhaps this isn't for you.

Really, this began as a knee-jerk reaction against the influx of "art" and "collaboration" associations which are really only concerned with self-promotion. Twitter accounts and facebook status updates; bullshit like that. The internet is a wonderful thing, as I'll probably write about, but it makes my generation feel empowered. As if what we do really matters. There is no more individualism when the individual depends upon the network. I wanted to make something in response to that, something that could be better, something that could challenge and maybe even spark an honest, hilarious dialogue. YouTube doesn't say "please don't post that because it sucks" and Twitter doesn't tell you to get a diary. So here is where I want to write lengthy entries about how much my generation sucks, how much our "art" sucks, how great of a job we're doing completely destroying our own culture, and how everything is generally going to shit and it's not our parents' fault. I will elaborate on these themes constantly, so I won't expand upon them here.

Haters gonna hate. That's one of the main points of this. Someone once said that there is no art without criticism. Art is not an absolute; it does not exist in a void. If the 20th century has proven anything, it's that everything is relative. We have been raised in a relativistic world of semiotics and postmodernism and bullshit. Kids can't just make something and call it art, and yet they try anyway. Someone needs to call it masturbatory. Someone needs to insist on its falseness. People are, but there's not enough of them. There isn't enough patience, not enough humility. I hesitate even to call what I'm doing criticism, let alone anything I've done as art. But I'm very ready to refer to this as trolling, which I believe may be a 21st-century equivalent to criticism, for people under 30 anyway.

For now fuck advocacy is just me. In my day I've been called a dick, a loser, a gentleman, a cunning linguist, a miracle-worker, a douchebag, a nice guy, a weirdo, and sometimes people pronounce my name incorrectly. I can't really deny any title; I prefer to let other people figure out what to call me, since they're the ones having the experience with me. Sadly, everyone usually refers to themselves in a certain way, not really realizing that one's experiences with oneself are rather biased. I'm not calling myself a saint. I already called myself a dick.