Which reflects the fact that you don't understand the notion of "culture"--unless the notion I'm inferring is too academic or think-piece mumbo-jumbo for you.
Put it this way: from the author of the "don't let people enjoy things" piece, here's a reflection upon a banal, dated motel room as "culture".
I. Often I find myself nostalgic for things that haven't disappeared yet. This feeling is enhanced by the strange conviction that once I stop looking at these things, I will never see them again, that...
mcmansionhell.com
Except that I'm not talking about them as "good"; because under the circumstance, that's redundant--and I'm not talking about the venues they played at, either. I'm talking about the notion of appreciating *them*--the Beatles, the Looney Tunes--in historical space and time. And if for you, it doesn't matter if it's of the 40s or 50s or early 60s or late 60s or 80s, all that matters that it's "good"--then I'm sorry, but that's just about the most Sunday-painter-amateurish manner of cultural consumption imaginable
Actually, when you put it in terms of "for entertainment, to laugh, to have fun"--it sounds like an utterly *empty* manner of consumption. Like--Ontario Place without the Zeidler, without the Hough, as nothing more than an aggrandized analogue to Playdium or a suburban paintball venue. And devoid of *culture*--that is, not even allowing for any oxygen for something like that above essay on motel rooms and "datedness". It's the purest form of Neil Postman-esque "amusing oneself to death".
Maybe if you *read* the piece I linked to, you'll get an idea of what it's about--and to quote this part in particular...
And that's Good. Cultural. Writing. (And indeed, the inverse version of it is how "greater appreciation of societal and historical context" can turn "Let People *Not* Enjoy Things" upside the head--things like, well, all those little concrete buildings on the Ontario Place West Island.)
But again--my old "grew up in a McMansion teardown" point. So one can say that you're like the kind of person who grew up in *that* kind of environment and was...quite content; while I'm like the kind of person trying to convince you that you *shouldn't* be content. Yeah, I guess that's the case, a la the meme above.
But put it this way: when it comes to "architectural importance", I wouldn't rush out to declare all those 1950s Scarborough neighbourhoods full of CMHC strawberry boxes Heritage Conservation Districts. I *would* encourage (in the name of "greater appreciation of societal and historical context") a thoughtful, preemptive appreciation of those strawberry boxes--which is why even if I regret whenever they're replaced or altered beyond recognition on behalf of some contemporary EIFS-schlock or bro'dude-contemporary-design/build aesthetic (and probably with an undertone of "eff societal and historical context, it's old and dated and it sucks, period" re what's being altered or replaced), I'm not all "the sky is falling" about it. *However*, when it comes to letting the designers and clients for such schlock call the shots on the worth of, well, those little concrete West Island buildings, I'd gladly slam the figurative window down on their fingers--even if they more authentically represent a kind of unwashed "mass taste", if one wants to let mob rule inform architectural judgment...
A big museum is redundant; besides, remember the old Joni Mitchell "tree museum" negative metaphor. I'm more of a Sir Christopher Wren POV: if you seek a "museum", look around you. (But of course, you have to grasp that all that's around us is "culture" in the first place)
Oh, and BTW Kate Wagner's lately shared tweets on the fate of both the OSC and the West Island. So you can tell what side *she's* on.
