grouse voluably about how culture took a fatal turn for the worse precisely ten years before they were born, and how the art of 'our' past can sustain us in these trivial times if only we venerate it sufficiently. What do you think happens to Kramer when pomo points out that his 'classic' modernism and mass culture have something to do with each other? Well, it isn't pretty. All Kramer has to do is walk into the High & Low exhibit, and the popping of his blood vessels becomes downright audible: 'we know straightaway', if we're a we, 'that in "High & Low" we are in the presence of one of the most unconscionable intellectual swindles we have ever seen in a serious museum.' 18
But surely this too is to be expected: as 'classicity' touches everything from Braque to Coke, there will be a growing number of reactionaries who'll resist any historical inspection of The Real Thing. Soon, no doubt, the same curmudgeonly people who complained about pomo's playfulness will be screeching that pomo is Politically Correct. And by then, we can expect two things. Thing one will be that postmodernism's complex and indeterminate projects of cultural critique, wherever on the dial we find them, will have drawn some blood from the vastly complacent culture they inhabit. Thing two is that postmodernism will shortly thereafter be defended by the next century's reactionaries as the scale of classicity in which future generations will once again be weighed and found wanting.
And by then, if memory serves, pomo's institutionalization will look to us like it's déjà vu all over again.