Monday, May 31, 2004

Ars longa, vita brevis (insurance man's panic)

In amongst all the war and stuff, you may have missed the tragedy of the Saatchi art collection being trashed (sic). It's weird, really, here I am a fan of Duchamp and Jarry, Joyce and Dali, etc and Modern Art, generally (although the original meaning of modern - contemporary - has gone now) - but I can't stand most post-modern art.

If I had been one of the guys named on Tracy Emin's tent "Everyone I Ever Slept With" I would definitely be asking to have my name taken off. But is that the point? Is she bragging? Getting her own back? What? And why so twee? "slept with!" Are we talking fucking here, or aren't we? I've slept with people I didn't have sex with, just as many of us must had sex without staying to sleep over. So is this brave art, or stupid euphemistic twaddle? [OK, did my research, it included teddy bears, grannies and unborn foetuses, so that's OK then]

I admit that is the first time I have let rude language out in my blog, but it's crucial sometimes. W.C. Fields gets quoted as not drinking water because "fish make love in it" - which completely loses the phrasing of the gag - what he originally said was apparently "I never drink water. Fish fuck in it!" Now that's funny...
And British TV doesn't bleep after 9pm, and The Guardian newspaper (the only one, I think) uses that word where appropriate) I think I have to go that way, too - even out here in hypersensitive cyberspace.

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