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Backrooms is avant-garde art for normies
Published 1 month, 3 weeks ago
Description
It’s 1990. This morning I found an open door in the shopping centre of the dull commuter town I live in.
Beyond the door are a series of large empty rooms, poorly lit, with large boxes.
Backrooms.
I phoned my friend Matthew Woods. Woodsy. He pedaled over his BMX and together we’re going to explore the rooms.
I’ve made it to the third room but Woodsy has disappeared. Now I’m hiding behind the boxes as footsteps approach.
What are these rooms? Where do they lead? Who is coming for me?
Woodsy’s pudgy face appears over the box, and his annoying older brother Rick who works in Dixons the electronic store. They’re laughing.
“Damo you twat” Rick roars “you’re in the backroom of Dixons”.
Because there are no liminal spaces.
Only backrooms.
Mainstream cinema is choking on its own product.
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Every hero has a meaningful journey that will hit at least nine of Joseph Campbell’s seventeen stages.<