Arts, books, and cultural commentary
What is a poet allowed to be? For much of the modern era, the answer has been dictated by a familiar archetype. The solitary genius, often obscure and always allusive, their poetry a fortress guarded by the gatekeepers of academia.
When Finn and Jake first bounded across my television screen in 2010 I was fourteen-years-old. Their world of post-apocalyptic whimsy unfolding in eleven-minute bursts of colour and sound. The Land of Ooo was a place where candy could talk, where dogs stretched like taffy.