Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Miami Sound Masheen
Bienvenido-a-Miami is apparently sick to death of sitting in her office cubicle working "with hell's minions" writing reviews about throw pillows and carpet samples, so she started a blog of her own. Being that she's of Cuban extraction, the name of said blog is an homage to her hometown hero Gloria Estefan's original band, Miami Sound Machine. While I have yet to read anything there involving an ode to such Gloria masterpieces as "Come on, shake your body, baby, do that conga, I know you can't control yourself any longa, feel the rhythm of the music getting stronga, etc.", I'm just relieved she chose to pay tribute to Gloria rather than some other Cuban cause, like bringbackeliangonzalez.com or something like that.
Anyway, she writes for a living, and she's good at it. Her shit is funny. Por ejemplo:
While gushing about her love for Liza Minnelli, she tells about her trip to see Liza at Coney Island earlier this summer:
"I expected to be pressed up against a thousand topless beefy gay men blowing kisses at her, but much to my surprise, I was wrangled in by what must have been every single geriatic ward in the five boroughs of New York City. I'd never seen so many wheelchairs in my life--and all the old people were wasted too!"
Regarding Christina Ricci's latest movie role:
"The movie, about a wealthy young woman born with a pig's snout for a nose, is played by Christina Ricci, who obviously gleaned inspiration for her role by simply looking in the mirror."
Then she rips on Chloe Sevigny, much to my delight:
"Speaking of untalented, vacuous, and overrated 'Indie-goddesses', PAPER magazine has recently deemed Chloe Sevigny as the 'Art World's Favorite Movie Star.' Yikes. What an insult to the art world."
Concerning Suri Cruise:
"The great thing about being a Scientologist is that once you reach level 10 of insanity, you're awarded special sperm powers, and that, my friends, is how Suri came to be."
Anyway, her material is great, and well worth your time. Besides, there's no way I could NOT give her a shout out when she sent me a mass e-mail alerting everyone to her presence on the internet that read "It's not as amazing as RAZZY.org, but it's a start." SOOOO flattering!
Check it out:
http://soundmasheen.blogspot.com
Anyway, she writes for a living, and she's good at it. Her shit is funny. Por ejemplo:
While gushing about her love for Liza Minnelli, she tells about her trip to see Liza at Coney Island earlier this summer:
"I expected to be pressed up against a thousand topless beefy gay men blowing kisses at her, but much to my surprise, I was wrangled in by what must have been every single geriatic ward in the five boroughs of New York City. I'd never seen so many wheelchairs in my life--and all the old people were wasted too!"
Regarding Christina Ricci's latest movie role:
"The movie, about a wealthy young woman born with a pig's snout for a nose, is played by Christina Ricci, who obviously gleaned inspiration for her role by simply looking in the mirror."
Then she rips on Chloe Sevigny, much to my delight:
"Speaking of untalented, vacuous, and overrated 'Indie-goddesses', PAPER magazine has recently deemed Chloe Sevigny as the 'Art World's Favorite Movie Star.' Yikes. What an insult to the art world."
Concerning Suri Cruise:
"The great thing about being a Scientologist is that once you reach level 10 of insanity, you're awarded special sperm powers, and that, my friends, is how Suri came to be."
Anyway, her material is great, and well worth your time. Besides, there's no way I could NOT give her a shout out when she sent me a mass e-mail alerting everyone to her presence on the internet that read "It's not as amazing as RAZZY.org, but it's a start." SOOOO flattering!
Check it out:
http://soundmasheen.blogspot.com
Labels: Bienvenido-a-Miami, down with OPB (other people's blogs), I LOVE IT
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Razzy: Modern Artiste
A while ago, KatieScarlett, Bienvenido-a-Miami, and Miss Corbutt dragged me to the Museum of Modern Art, or, as it's generally called, the MoMA. KatieScarlett and Miss Corbutt are both professional artists, so I was pleased that they were willing to bring me along despite my shocking ignorance of all things artsy. I never took a single art class in college, and the last art class I did take (high school ceramics) was a disaster. I actually had to steal someone else's bowl to pass the part of the class where we threw things on the wheel because I was so fucking incapable that I couldn't make so much as an ashtray. Needless to say, I was glad that my artistic inadequacy wouldn't exclude me from quality time with my artist friends as they did artsy stuff. Besides, despite my general contempt for the art world, I love museums, and I had never been to the MoMA. We met in my favorite Columbus Circle meeting spot (beneath the monument to the valiant seamen of WWII), then picnicked in Central Park, watched some street performers, and finally went to the MoMA. Miss Corbutt, with her many artfag connections, got us a group members pass, thus securing free entry to the museum, which ruled.
The girls all wanted to go see the Dada exhibit that was there. If you aren't familiar with the Dada movement, it was this art movement started by a bunch of anti-World War I peaceniks in Europe who wanted to give the finger to art snobs by basically taking a bunch of garbage and crap, drawing irreverant shit on it (like taking a print of the Mona Lisa and putting a mustache on her) and exhibiting it as art. One of the most famous examples of Dadaist art is this upside-down urinal that Dada pioneer Marcel Duchamp found in a trash heap, signed a fake name to, and started exhibiting in galleries all over the place:
Anyway, that's Dada. So we went to the Dada floor of the museum and looked at all the various crap that was there. KatieScarlett predicted that, because it was a bunch of assholes saying "fuck you" to intellectual posers, I would love it. I didn't mind it, and I especially liked the weird paintings of orgies involving fat German businessmen, hookers, and soldiers of the Weimar republic. Other than that, I wandered from room to room in the exhibit, saying "Where's the fucking famous toilet? I want to see that urinal! Find me the urinal!" Finally, on our way out, we got to see the Duchamp urinal in all its glory, and I was appeased.
Then we wandered around the museum for a while, and I did my best to be a complete asshole, ensuring that our art appreciation was lively and fun. Earlier in the day, Miss Corbutt had been ranting about how much she hates Monet, so when we walked past a giant Monet water lilies mural, I scoffed loudly and announced, "This guy sucks. What a talentless fraud." Several other people who were appreciating the subtleties of the impressionist master gasped and glared at me through their boxy glasses, overtly scandalized. When we found the Egon Schiele paintings, I nudged Miss Corbutt and said, "Hey, is this the Miss Corbutt section? That looks like your work!" This was a joke which originated when Miss Corbutt and I were roommates in Tacoma, and this unemployed artist-type I was sleeping with made the same comparison regarding her painting style. Miss Corbutt liked neither him nor the comparison. "No, it doesn't..." Miss Corbutt said, then got the joke, and said scornfully, "Fuck (guy that I was banging)! He was an asshole." Then we found all the Salvador Dali paintings and discussed our suspicions that Dali had both mommy issues and a raging ether huffing habit. I behaved respectfully, however, when we saw some paintings by Miss Corbutt's idol Frida Kahlo, and when we looked at pictures by some of KatieScarlett's favorite photographers.
Eventually, we wandered through a room full of Mondrian line paintings (Miss Corbutt pronounced him a "one-trick pony"), which led to a gallery full of paintings that I think represent the worst qualities of modern "art." These are the paintings where some dipshit just stamps a green square onto a blank canvas, names it something that makes absolutely no sense, like "ebullience" or "solitude," and is subsequently lauded for artistic brilliance. I was so annoyed, I said, "I could do this. Anyone can be a fucking artist so long as they can draw a square. Why is this art?" The only thing KatieScarlett or Miss Corbutt could come up with was along the lines of "because there are pretentious fucks who will say anything's genius so long as it's marketed to them right." I raved about this while we satiated Bienvenido-a-Miami's desire to walk through the modern furniture gallery, and still hadn't gotten it out of my system when we left the museum and ordered a bottle of wine at a nearby outdoor cafe.
"You know, Razzy," said KatieScarlett. "You COULD be a modern artist. You just have to come up with some kind of gimmick. With your ability to influence people via the internet, you could easily be hot shit in the art world."
"Really?" I said, my interest piqued. "Hot shit" sounds to me like "money," and I love me a good get-rich-quick scheme.
"Yeah, you can just draw shit on stuff you find...they call that 'ready-made art' or 'found art', like we saw today. The Dadaists loved that sort of thing."
"So, I could just draw, for example, dicks on stuff I find and act pretentious about it, and people would want to buy it? I'd have the same artfag credibility as you guys, even without a fancy art degree?"
"Probably," affirmed Miss Corbutt.
"You could tell everyone you're 'self-taught', it will be that much more impressive." KatieScarlett added.
"Well, shit, does anyone have a pen? I'm going to start now."
Bienvenido-a-Miami produced a pen, and we all rummaged through our purses for paper detritus that could be reused as a canvas for my new career as an artist. I decided that my real name didn't sound artsy enough, so made up a new one to sign all my art with: Greta von Wienerdickstische. I figured that my original inspiration was a good enough gimmick, so I planned to just draw cocks all over stuff. In about 5 minutes, I cranked out several modern art masterpieces.
This is from a schedule from Miss Corbutt's yoga studio. I call this piece "Cockasana":
And this is from a H&M receipt I pulled out crumpled from the depths of my purse. I call it "Cockpitalism":
These three are from a brochure about organ donation that KatieScarlett picked up when she was in Pennsylvania renewing her driver's license. I call it "Cockdonation Triptych":
This was from a free ticket to the MoMA that some guy outside the museum gave me, but I didn't need on account of Miss Corbutt's museum admission hookup. I call this piece "Ticket to Cock":
This was my juror's badge from when I had jury duty several months before (good thing I never clean out my handbag). This installation is called "Fair and Impartial Cock":
And this was a piece of propaganda distributed by a crazy preacher in a subway station. I call it, "Eternal Cock":
It's not such a bad start for someone like me so artistically retarded that drawing a simple stick figure strains my abilities. Furthermore, if there's actually some money to be made, I'll start drawing dicks on every spare scrap of paper I can get my hands on. Not only am I broke, but as ride-pimper and deodorant salesman X to tha Z Xzibit says, "Call it what you wanna call it, I'm a fuckin' alcoholic." Booze costs money, and I always need more of both, so if I have to become an artfag, then so be it. Greta von Wienerdickstische originals are selling at the low, low price of $5000 per work, so I would advise all connoisseurs and collectors of modern art to get in on the ground floor and pick one of these up now, before I really get famous. You'll be sorry you let these masterpieces slip away once they're going for a couple million a pop at Sotheby's! E-mail razzy@razzy.org for more information. Serious inquiries only.
The girls all wanted to go see the Dada exhibit that was there. If you aren't familiar with the Dada movement, it was this art movement started by a bunch of anti-World War I peaceniks in Europe who wanted to give the finger to art snobs by basically taking a bunch of garbage and crap, drawing irreverant shit on it (like taking a print of the Mona Lisa and putting a mustache on her) and exhibiting it as art. One of the most famous examples of Dadaist art is this upside-down urinal that Dada pioneer Marcel Duchamp found in a trash heap, signed a fake name to, and started exhibiting in galleries all over the place:
Anyway, that's Dada. So we went to the Dada floor of the museum and looked at all the various crap that was there. KatieScarlett predicted that, because it was a bunch of assholes saying "fuck you" to intellectual posers, I would love it. I didn't mind it, and I especially liked the weird paintings of orgies involving fat German businessmen, hookers, and soldiers of the Weimar republic. Other than that, I wandered from room to room in the exhibit, saying "Where's the fucking famous toilet? I want to see that urinal! Find me the urinal!" Finally, on our way out, we got to see the Duchamp urinal in all its glory, and I was appeased.
Then we wandered around the museum for a while, and I did my best to be a complete asshole, ensuring that our art appreciation was lively and fun. Earlier in the day, Miss Corbutt had been ranting about how much she hates Monet, so when we walked past a giant Monet water lilies mural, I scoffed loudly and announced, "This guy sucks. What a talentless fraud." Several other people who were appreciating the subtleties of the impressionist master gasped and glared at me through their boxy glasses, overtly scandalized. When we found the Egon Schiele paintings, I nudged Miss Corbutt and said, "Hey, is this the Miss Corbutt section? That looks like your work!" This was a joke which originated when Miss Corbutt and I were roommates in Tacoma, and this unemployed artist-type I was sleeping with made the same comparison regarding her painting style. Miss Corbutt liked neither him nor the comparison. "No, it doesn't..." Miss Corbutt said, then got the joke, and said scornfully, "Fuck (guy that I was banging)! He was an asshole." Then we found all the Salvador Dali paintings and discussed our suspicions that Dali had both mommy issues and a raging ether huffing habit. I behaved respectfully, however, when we saw some paintings by Miss Corbutt's idol Frida Kahlo, and when we looked at pictures by some of KatieScarlett's favorite photographers.
Eventually, we wandered through a room full of Mondrian line paintings (Miss Corbutt pronounced him a "one-trick pony"), which led to a gallery full of paintings that I think represent the worst qualities of modern "art." These are the paintings where some dipshit just stamps a green square onto a blank canvas, names it something that makes absolutely no sense, like "ebullience" or "solitude," and is subsequently lauded for artistic brilliance. I was so annoyed, I said, "I could do this. Anyone can be a fucking artist so long as they can draw a square. Why is this art?" The only thing KatieScarlett or Miss Corbutt could come up with was along the lines of "because there are pretentious fucks who will say anything's genius so long as it's marketed to them right." I raved about this while we satiated Bienvenido-a-Miami's desire to walk through the modern furniture gallery, and still hadn't gotten it out of my system when we left the museum and ordered a bottle of wine at a nearby outdoor cafe.
"You know, Razzy," said KatieScarlett. "You COULD be a modern artist. You just have to come up with some kind of gimmick. With your ability to influence people via the internet, you could easily be hot shit in the art world."
"Really?" I said, my interest piqued. "Hot shit" sounds to me like "money," and I love me a good get-rich-quick scheme.
"Yeah, you can just draw shit on stuff you find...they call that 'ready-made art' or 'found art', like we saw today. The Dadaists loved that sort of thing."
"So, I could just draw, for example, dicks on stuff I find and act pretentious about it, and people would want to buy it? I'd have the same artfag credibility as you guys, even without a fancy art degree?"
"Probably," affirmed Miss Corbutt.
"You could tell everyone you're 'self-taught', it will be that much more impressive." KatieScarlett added.
"Well, shit, does anyone have a pen? I'm going to start now."
Bienvenido-a-Miami produced a pen, and we all rummaged through our purses for paper detritus that could be reused as a canvas for my new career as an artist. I decided that my real name didn't sound artsy enough, so made up a new one to sign all my art with: Greta von Wienerdickstische. I figured that my original inspiration was a good enough gimmick, so I planned to just draw cocks all over stuff. In about 5 minutes, I cranked out several modern art masterpieces.
This is from a schedule from Miss Corbutt's yoga studio. I call this piece "Cockasana":
And this is from a H&M receipt I pulled out crumpled from the depths of my purse. I call it "Cockpitalism":
These three are from a brochure about organ donation that KatieScarlett picked up when she was in Pennsylvania renewing her driver's license. I call it "Cockdonation Triptych":
This was from a free ticket to the MoMA that some guy outside the museum gave me, but I didn't need on account of Miss Corbutt's museum admission hookup. I call this piece "Ticket to Cock":
This was my juror's badge from when I had jury duty several months before (good thing I never clean out my handbag). This installation is called "Fair and Impartial Cock":
And this was a piece of propaganda distributed by a crazy preacher in a subway station. I call it, "Eternal Cock":
It's not such a bad start for someone like me so artistically retarded that drawing a simple stick figure strains my abilities. Furthermore, if there's actually some money to be made, I'll start drawing dicks on every spare scrap of paper I can get my hands on. Not only am I broke, but as ride-pimper and deodorant salesman X to tha Z Xzibit says, "Call it what you wanna call it, I'm a fuckin' alcoholic." Booze costs money, and I always need more of both, so if I have to become an artfag, then so be it. Greta von Wienerdickstische originals are selling at the low, low price of $5000 per work, so I would advise all connoisseurs and collectors of modern art to get in on the ground floor and pick one of these up now, before I really get famous. You'll be sorry you let these masterpieces slip away once they're going for a couple million a pop at Sotheby's! E-mail razzy@razzy.org for more information. Serious inquiries only.
Labels: artfaggotry, Bienvenido-a-Miami, KatieScarlett, Miss Corbutt, NYC
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]
