Modern Art: The Jokes On You!

I must've missed the meeting or something but at some point in recent history I'm sure all of the world's most desperate, gay attention seekers congregated somewhere and decided to corner the medium of art by becoming 'artists'...actually I should say: 'modern artists'. See I don't usually believe in conspiracy but when I see how universally low the level of quality in art is these days, I can't help but believe it's a co-ordinated effort.

Modern art is not only fucking meaningless, it's also offensive. It offends my sense of self. When I'm standing in front of some ink blotted Rorschach piece of abstract shit, trying to decipher the underlying meaning of what looks like something my 6 year old nephew came up with in a dark room, I can faintly hear the sound of a lyspy voice laughing at me. I feel like I'm being laughed at by someone whose sole purpose for creating the oil and canvas question mark I'm standing in front of was to see if they could trick someone else into taking it seriously; and guess what? Jokes on me.

Modern art is generally absolute shit. It's terrible. I see it and imagine that it was born from the ass of a fat, sweating hairy man. And it appears as though I'm not alone in my opinion. What could I say here in words about modern art that is not better communicated non-verbally by this piece of video (wait about 30 seconds for the payoff...)



Zune Paint from Sibling Rivalry on Vimeo.


Now before anyone out there reads this and starts using that cunty mind trick on me – you know, the one where you insult the non-appreciator by saying they're uncultured or better still by telling them that they don't “get it” - allow me to briefly speak of the art that I do appreciate.

Last year around this time I went to the Louvre. After a frustrating half an hour of trying to locate the entrance (a fucking pyramid nestled a billion miles from the street) I finally got in and spent the remainder of my day wandering the endless corridors staring at the beautiful assortment of paintings and sculpture. I was engrossed, impressed – thoroughly stimulated (nohomo). My absolute favourite piece was this statue:





If you’re a man who’s ever been wholly consumed by love for a woman to the point your world feels like its been completely filled by her, you will be able to appreciate this masterwork. Looking at it caused me to think of the most intense, piercing love I have known in my life and it summed the whole experience up in its unmoving yet infinitely wise stillness.


Now let’s contrast that with the randomly assembled collection of trash seen below.




This literal assortment of garbage was one of the art installations at this year's Nuit Blanche festival. A lot of high fashion types were crowded around it feverishly debating its significance. I on the other hand ignored it because unlike them I could see it for what it was: littering. How could anyone with a firm grip on reality disagree?
The tastelessness of this whole scene was soundtracked by a DJ who was set up on the street playing, you guessed it, crappy minmal Detroit tech house. I felt my life being robbed from me with every passing second. What a piece of shit. You couldn't fit enough acid on my tongue to make this interesting.

Where old art used to be about ideas and skill, talent and craft, modern art is about fashion and egomania. It's about calling everyone's bluff on the fact that no one wants to question what is commonly perceived as art for fear that they might seem uncultured. Those who willingly comply with the artists god complex do so to reinforce their place in a completely fabricated social hierarchy. It's like make believe for adults.

Let's all stand in a gallery drinking champagne pretending we're cultured and important and that the green squiggly line painting actually means something!

It's all set up for the 'see and be seen' types who want the superficial plausibility of their depth and flair to be indulged by like minded cocksmiths. It's like watching really well groomed group masturbation.

As has been proven so many times over, talent is not required to be a modern day artist. Instead, if you want to be an artist, forget about talent altogether and ask yourself the following question: can I fool rich white people into believing I'm a suffering gay genius. If the answer is 'yes' then you have everything you need to be the 'next big thing'. See, modern art is a high stakes bluff.

In fact if you really truly are dying to make it in the world of art I can tell you how to do it.
I guarantee if you do as I say you'll be a hot shit swinging dick paparazzi swarmed Jesus Christ superstar before your first big gallery opening BUT I also guarantee you'll become an absolute douche in the process. Are you willing to trade everything good about yourself to accomplish this goal? If you think you can handle it here's what you do:

STEP #1

Sit in front of a mirror and repeat the following until you actually believe it:

“I am an artist. I am better than everyone because I am an artist. If people criticize me its because they don't understand me. If they don't understand me it's because I'm smarter than them. Because I'm smarter than them I am better than them. Because I am better than them I am an artist...”

Repeat it from the top like you were singing Henry the VIIIth for as long as it fucking takes for you to actually believe it. Sit there. For hours. Like you were one of those brainwashed Islamic kids learning the Koran by memory. When you have thoroughly mindfucked yourself into buying this bullshit move on to step 2...


STEP #2

Make yourself look like a tortured prick. When people talk to you ignore them; do so in a way that doesn't seem deliberate but more like you're too occupied with some critical thought to acknowledge their mundane conversation. Dress like an asshole – shoes no socks. I recommend canvas shoes because it will delay the onset of athletes (artists?) foot. Skinny jeans always. Wear low plunging V-neck t-shirts and cut the 'v' even lower using scissors so that you look extra gay. Wear lots of accessories. Grow your hair out and stop washing it and also grow a beard. Wear scarves and shades. When anyone asks you anything – be it your friend asking you 'what's up?' or the waitress asking you if you'd like a receipt – act irritated by the question.

Why are they burdening you with their stupid questions? Don't they know you're busy trying to put it all together? That you're so close to having all the answers?


STEP #3

Here's the easy part – make some art! Now you would think that this would be the really hard part but it isn't! All the hard work is in steps 1 and 2. Here you are free to do whatever the fuck you want to do. Modern art has no meaning! No purpose! Its as significant as blowing a fart in a sewer. People will never admit they don't 'get it'. Because of this you don't have to make something that actually has meaning; all you have to do is make something that seems as though it might mean something.

How do you do this?

Shit man, I'm giving away the keys to the mansion here, but what the fuck, right?!

Here's what you do:

Take a picture of something iconic or revered, like the Virgin Mary for instance.
Doodle on it like you were in Grade 6 math and bored. Add a moustache. Give her pointed eyebrows. Draw a half finished game of hangman in the corner or put a spliff in her hand. Even draw your favourite bands logo somewhere if you want. Blah blah blah...touch it up until it looks nice and confused. Add some paint blotches and drips for effect. Then add a completely subversive and 'shocking' element – like use photoshop to supersize the image of a cock then cut it out and stick it on the picture next to her mouth to suggest she's sucking it.

Finally give your work an edgy title, something like “Thy Kingdom Cum” and...

Voila!!!

You are now a hot shit modern art mogul. See the 'art' itself doesn't really mean anything, it just seems like:

a) it might mean something
b) it might mean something subversive
c) it's the kind of thing a tortured homo would make

Rich white people will then pay you ridiculous amounts of money for your work because owning it gives them the rush of associating their sterile affluent lives with your audacious and irreverent faggotry. They'll take your work home to their mansion and invite their friends over to talk about it and a round of pretentious conversation will ensue where it sounds like everyone's reading out of a thesaurus.
Meanwhile you'll be blowing coke and fucking models and fagging out to your hearts content and you'll never have to work another day again beyond doodling on old pictures and photoshopping cocks onto the faces of dead celebrities. I just let you in on the joke and made you a million dollars in the process, fuckyouverymuch.