In a Culture War, Art Is the Front Line

Well, they killed the NEA. We knew it was coming.

But let’s be clear—this isn’t just about politics.

A culture war doesn’t follow party lines. It’s not red or blue. It’s about whether we immerse ourselves in work and works of substance, or give ourselves over to mass-manufactured formulas designed to distract and pacify.

The arts live outside those boundaries. They’ve always had the capacity to hold complexity, contradiction, and humanity. They’re one of the last big, beautiful tents we’ve got.

And that’s why they’re under attack.

Art started as one of our earliest forms of communication. It’s how we shared dreams. How we made meaning. How we connected with something bigger than ourselves.

Then came the hijacking.

For thousands of years, the elite claimed the arts—through money, control, and violence. Artists were forced into patronage. Some created under threat of death. But art didn’t stay quiet.

It started to fight back.

Artists packed their work with symbols and messages their lords were too arrogant to notice. They whispered truths under the surface. They spoke to the people.

And over time, the arts became something else. A place for the unheard. A home for the uninvited. A system that amplifies the rest of us.

The arts are where we say the things no one else will print or air. They’re how we grieve, protest, rejoice, and survive.

You don’t write an essay when you want someone to feel something.

You write a song.

A song can move the world. No bullets required.

So when they defund the arts, what they’re really doing is silencing voices that threaten their grip on power.

But we’re not helpless.

We can go to the gallery.

Buy the local theater ticket.

Catch the open mic.

Support the artist making weird, beautiful things in a borrowed space.

Show up, and bring someone with you.

And if you’re an artist? That comes with responsibility too.

Be honest. Be accessible. Not by shrinking your work, but by opening the door to conversation. Don’t blame people for not understanding your work. Teach them the language. Make work that wants to be understood.

I can’t imagine a life without the arts. My family and I have learned so much by leaning into our own creativity, and soaking up the strange and beautiful creations of others.

They want to erase all of that and replace it with a single ideology.

One voice.

One idol.

I’m not going quietly into that good night.

In a culture war, I’ll take our side every time.

They mostly just have Kid Rock.