Universal Composition, 1937, Joaquín Torres-García (1874–1949); photograph: Philippe Migeat; Musée National d’Art Moderne, Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris, France; © CNAC/MNAM/Dist. RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY; © copyright Alejandra, Aurelio, and Claudio Torres 2017.
Blast me no blasts, please.
Bernie Sanders Blasts Greece’s Creditors,” reads a headline at the Huffington Post. At Reuters: “Republican presidential hopeful Rubio blasts Iran deal.” “McConnell refuses to blast fellow Kentuckian Rand Paul,” CNN tells us. (Senator Paul is not so courteous—Google autocompletes “Rand Paul blasts” with “John McCain,” “Hillary Clinton,” “Dick Cheney,” and “Ted Nugent.”)
But blast me no blasts, please. It is such an ugly word. Garish and offensive, too. I am so sick of seeing it that I am thinking of giving up the news.
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Reprinted from The Hedgehog Review 17.3
(Fall 2015). This essay may not be resold, reprinted,
or redistributed for compensation of any kind without prior written permission. Please contact
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