These images have wandered, experienced the excessive reflection of vernacular and nauseating displays of vulgar glitter, the dubious highlighting of cultural declassification that a lack of distinction brings into relief, depreciating everything. This empire of viscous, formless narcissism might seem superficial and  specular, but it is not. The task of reconverting its own marked degradation by appellative commercial consumerism to an experience of form therefore becomes an interesting challenge.  We remain at some point beyond the process Andy Warhol followed at close-quarters, now dissolved into a post-kitsch emulsion of higher glamorized pop; stages of ferocious degradation that art has accompanied.