His wry and dry sense of the absurd blazes its flame through the pathways of this book.
Coupled to a deep empathy for the outcast, John takes the telescope and gazes through the middle to depict both ends of the rectum.Balancing absurdity and alliance with the outsider creates new perspectives disrupting, distorting and fragmenting middle class fixed moral stances. Disruption is his stock in trade ,and nothing is more thought shifting than his film classes for people who have committed the most horrendous crimes as an antidote to switch and burn.
Connecting Dada, Surrealism and American pop, John brings shock to awe creating new art forms in his wake. The man who put more into the Balti that just some more. His work will stand over a greater longevity because his conceptualistation wreaks havoc on the standard duplicitous lie factory, beaming out of the white picket fence. An American Beauty he has connected to a surreal legacy of the dream world which also shows the dirty underwear draw. Modern forms will inevitably turn yellow in the sunlight, then fade into obscurity, as a pale pastiche of this proto hippy stroke punk aesthete.
John's humour is not for the highly sensitive or those who want to live linearly. His bizarre notions only appear that way because the norms of current society are so odd, any form of critique gets labelled as unnormal.
Wince exudes from each crafted piece, as each is an observation and vignette in itself. You can pick and choose which ones to howl over.
If you enjoyed the earlier films, the book will be no surprise in content. Laughed out loud and wincing ricochet from the pages.