While watching my favorite television channel, Bravo, I happened acrossed one of their hit shows, Work of Art. What proceeded was my eyes beginning to melt and my hair being pulled from my scalp so fiercely that I think I may have lost some brain (I came to this conclusion when I had to re-realize that Garfield likes lasanga).
Here are two examples of “tortured artists” on the show (I only know one of their names but will simply refer to them as jerkoff female and jerkoff male).
Jerkoff Female, an attractive girl who would easily turn heads at any bar or any shady downtown nightclub for that matter, was so ashamed of he rbody. She felt ugly. So ugly in fact, that almost all of her works of “art” consisted of her taking nude photographs of herself. This blows my mind because as the semi-functioning human being I am, I would never do something that I was so ashamed of. Not for at. Not for anything. Also, taken nude photos of yourself is not art. It’s what teenage girls do in high school to appease their horny boyfriends. These girls trust that their horny boyfriends will never show these photos to anyone else, but they will after a bad breakup as some sort of revenge. So, basically, this “artist” is just a dumb teenage girl.
But I don’t want to discourage her art. In fact, there are several publications that would be willing to show case her talents. Here are a few: Playboy, Hustler, Score, Escort, Juggs, and Japan’s favorite, Lemon People (upon further investigating, it appears this publication closed its doors in 1998. Apparently some chefs were deeply confused and cocnerned that they had been cooking Asian women instead of lemons).
Now to Jerkoff Male, who, if you saw him, you would want to punch him in the mouth. His hair was always disheveled, because through most of the duration of the show he slept. He slept and then woke up with an hour left to finish his “assignment” and instead of do something that requires any talent, her masterbated onto a picture and hung it up. And the judges loved how edgy it was.
Well my God. I think that there are artists within us all. We could have a museum full of things done in private shameful corners and we could all be considered so talented. Talented with a flick of the wrist. That would be the name of the exhibition: Flick of the Wrist. And the Jerkoff Female would have an exhibition called Exhibiton…ist.
The thing that really bothered me about this show is that these people, these, ‘artists’, felt they were above you and I. That they had tapped into something that no other person could possibly conceive or understand. They feel like they are tortured for having to produce these works that don’t amount to art at all. They should maybe get real jobs and then see wasn torture really is (I’m planning on getting one really soon, I swear).
It’s a real slap in the face of those people who really were tortured artists. You let me know when Jerkoff Female and Jerkoff Male cut off their ears and send them to loved ones. Then maybe I’ll apologize. But in reality I’ll probably just laugh.