Look, I don't claim to be the next Einstein. I don't want to be the next, big thing. There's too much pressure. I ain't no philistine, though. Should philistine be capitalized? Whatever, so take this little bit with a grain of salt, or at least some sympathy.
It's gotten to the point where I've read enough about art and have been exposed to enough of it to kind of know what's up. I've been to the Louvre. I saw Anselm Kiefer's special exhibit in Montreal. I've even seen a performance artist tie pigeons to his over exaggerated paper mache penis and let them fly off with it, but never have I felt so righteous as I did at this moment.
Last Sunday, I'm blowing some time at the Met since I was uptown anyway after eating breakfast with my aunt. I'm standing in front of a priceless Chagall work. It was one of the ones where he's floating around some dream like Paris making out with his wife. Then it just came out, "Fuck you Marc Chagall." A little old lady to my right gave a little gasp and put her hand to her mouth. I didn't stick around to see what kind of look was on her face. It wasn't worth it.
It was the most outrageous claim of my life, well, the most ridiculous insult I've ever heard come out of my mouth, and it was only the beginning. The next thing I know, all I'm thinking is:
"Come on Rembrandt, lighten up a little. What the hell Goya? Could you just take a freakin' chill pill. Christ! Picasso, don't you get me started. Okay, I get it, the dying bull's got some huge balls. Yeah, yeah, I get it. Really though, it'd be nice if you just sketch some kitschy smiley face. You pompous bastard. Not everything has to be so fucking deep. Stop being the arrogant genius you are for five damn minutes. Oh, and you. You mother fucker Chagall. Maybe you should paint something that doesn't defy the laws of physics. You think you can do that?"
It was kind of soothing to let that all off my chest.
ON A LIGHTER NOTE
Am I the only one who likes going to the New School libraries. I love them! They're great! Not only do I get to spend some time outside with the super cool art kids and talk about how cool all of our jackets and scarves are, but I also get to see how super cool it is to stand around outside and beg for smokes. Plus the libraries are always empty, at all times of the day! And on a side note, their librarians are a bunch of little hotties. Nothing like those tubby guys at our library. They look like they live in the basement of Bobst and have never been exposed to anything in their life except a seven o'clock shadow.