Join The Effing Dots

Ok, this is a ‘painting’ my girlfriend did on the ipad.
I’ll probably get in trouble for putting it on here.
I like it, I think it looks pretty cool, I know she enjoyed creating it, and am pretty sure she’d agree with me that, even if it was on canvas, it wouldn’t be worth a million bucks.
Thing is, I just read an article in our Sydney Australia newspaper, taken from The New York Times, about some arsehole called Damien Hirst, who’s described as an “art world star”.
Content is one thing… I suppose I just have to accept that if some sick fuck wants to use dead animals floating in formaldehyde to create his art. Damien Hirst does. People pay him millions for it. But fucking GRRRR anyway.
I’m not putting a link to the article because, frankly, I’d rather put the “artist” and whoever wrote the article in a tank of formaldehyde and display it in a gallery.
Anyway, more to the point, he is having huge exhibitions all over the world, where really fucking stupid people go, and pay, apparently, between $100,000 and $1,800,000 for paintings of random coloured spots that are, supposedly, his art, but, this overblown snotnosed wanker freely admits, he didn’t even paint them himself.
He painted five. All up. From when he started. And there’s hundreds of these things, and Stupid, no, Stupid, no, STUPID FUCKWITS are lining up to buy them.
They were painted by assistants.

Of the hundreds of spot canvases, Hirst painted only five himself. ”When I worked out how to do it, I sold one painting for, like, 50 quid and then used the money to employ other people to paint them,” he says, explaining he tells his staff he wants the colours to be random. Once, an assistant painted five yellow spots in a row. ”I told him those aren’t random,” Hirst recalls. ”And we had a big fight. Now I realise he was right and I was wrong.”

Sorry. Why should it matter to me ?
Ok, time to be proactive. How about every writer we can find just puts random single syllable words onto paper, and we get some famous writer who actually has no self respect or morals of any kind to sell them ?
And that can be art.
I’ll start.
Fuck. Fuck. fuck. fUck. FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRK.

Sent from my Harry iPants

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10 thoughts on “Join The Effing Dots

    • I TOLD her not to use green… oh, wait… No, that”s right, I told her not to use yellow ! GolFarkinDurnIt ! If only I was an Art World Star, and not just a stupid bossy boots…

  1. That horrible, saccharin Thomas Kincade has a factory where they spin that shit like cotton candy and sell it on calendars to misty-eyed romantics like my mother (who also collects Muffy dolls and handmade doilies). Art isn’t about art anymore, it’s about selling people the exact representation of who they think they are.

    Imagine: who’s buying the formaldehyde cow?

    • Throughout history, art has often been exactly about representing who its patrons think they are. The problem is that who we are isn’t as interesting or significant as who we used to be, back in the days of Mickey Angelo et al. We’re just people with money to burn now.

    • Wow TP, I think you nailed it. And maybe along with the money to burn thing people have become so used to corporate pecking orders they don’t even see it as wrong that the artist isn’t even the artist.

    • HaHa, Thomas Kincade, cotton candy. In Aus cotton candy is called fairy floss. Only TK stuff is more glary gloss, or lairy loss maybe. I wonder if Vomit On A Stick would sell…
      You scared me just now Averil. Who IS buying the formaldehyde cow ???
      And now there’s other questions about this that I can’t force myself to think about.

    • Oh.
      I just realised how gullible I really am.
      Maybe I could just think of me as an innocent instead, and gently forget, and not have to berate myself for being such a dumb bum.
      Then again, I would never do it, and I’m sure as I can be you won’t either, and that’s good enough for me.

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