* RADIO RANT: Sopranos End on Low Note?

I've never seen The Sopranos. (No HBO.) But from the shock & outrage on the morning talk shows (including sports talk shows, where everyone apparently feels qualified to don the hat of "Culture Critic" at will), there seems to be a great disconnect between the mainstream "philistine" and the postmodern in art. "There was no closure! Bah! Wah! Nothing freaking happened." Again, I didn't see it, but these reactions gave me a feeling of déjà vu: these were exactly my Intro to Lit students' reactions to short stories by, say, Donald Barthelme (and even Chekhov and Joyce, for that matter). "I missed the point, Tom. What happened?!" Well, stuff happens in these texts, on a more subtle level than in a Harlequin romance or detective potboiler—but no, there isn't some salient climax & denouement tying it up all nicely with a bow. There are many mannerisms of postmodern aesthetics that I'm none too fond of; but I do appreciate the implicit philosophy that there is no ending to life & nature—and therefore art & story; to expect/require one is only the imposition of a psyche & culture conditioned to do so. (Kinda like finding a gargoyle's face in a tree stump [see next blog], eh?)