Further proof that art is crap
Here's what I'm going to do.
I'm going to go to a fabric store. I'm going to buy about a million square feet of a fabric in a color nobody else liked, leaving the store with an abundance of it. Then I'm going to go to a large public place (much like Central Park) and randomly scatter it all over the place. Magically, the next day I'll be a world famous artist. I will change my name to Kresken and the world will worship me for my creativity. My masterpiece will look like this.
Some genius (yes, genius) named Cristo has apparently beat me to my diabolical scheme. He has spread random, ugly, burnt-orange cloth all over New York's favorite hate crime sanctuary. People are waxing poetic on his creative genius. What they don't understand is that his true genius is getting all of them to believe his poo is actually art.
Now, now Rich. You sound awfully disingenuous for a guy who plays several instruments, loves Broadway and wants to be a chef, among other things.
Ok, granted, but all of those things actually take talent. Cristo's only obvious talent appears to be the ability to use the hell out of some safety scissors. Here's the best part- he has an assistant. A dude name Jean-Claude. For all we know, that's what Van Damme has been doing. This will be the best thing he has done since Bloodsport XXIV finished production.
What exactly does the assistant do when the artist is doing nothing? Is there a level of doing so little you actually do a negative amount of activity?
If so, that would explain my (extremely) brief stint at FSU
Hey E.S.- when I get to DC, we really need to learn more than one song.