With its pompous paradoxes and its plagues of adverbs, its endless sentences and its strained rebellious poses, much of this promotional [art] writing serves mainly, it seems, as ammunition for those who still insist contemporary art is a fraud. Surely no one sensible takes this jargon seriously? @TheGuardian
estoy en medio de mi paraPraxis. Blahrtspeak. arsespeak? peekApeak and fall from it. such bafflement. exhaustion. irritation from this intense cynicalRealism and BlahbluntBlah imagery... she was saying, said... pOp me away from here, said she, and I heard it, from the mouth of one renowned artist ... no, wait... such immodesty on my part, eh, she said I said... popMEfar and gone we go-go... but Blah... not one, two, perhaps three, even a thousand renowned artists I met in that gallery. that night. esa noche... esa loca, dale huevo...
Blah. no no no it was not dark. there was beautiful, gorgeous light rain. Blah. estupendous vibes and colorfully brilliant underpants... un-der-pants? Yes! renowned artists -you know, it is a well-known fact- they ALL wear chíngamelapupila underpants. chíngamelaqué? It’s a must, pa'luego, pa'l relevo... So... as I enter... Blah.Blah... lookin'good, you know, reaLgood, them, I, uS... These magnificent creatures I am surrounded by... no, no... wait! way more, beyond that... Blah.Blah.Blah. AllLoL are flammable and creaturistic types... youKnow... critics, cricasartísticas, writers, artists, curators, mirahuecos, hueleóleos, popotografers... yatusabe... hasta los camareros de aquella crémerie della zuppa artística, gazpachada cruda y fría de talenti en manifesto... eh, eh, eso no é un helado?... sshh... un yelato... rrriquísimo.... baaaahh... ‘Tonce, as they ALL are widely recognized and... Blah.Blah... because they are... did I not just say renowned?... renombrado? Osea, queLEcambiaron ELnombre? no, no. famOUsssshhh... well... they ALL very-well-known for their provocative and very outstanding colorful underpants, as well as their unusual creaturistic narrative... although, not all of THEM write, youknow, them artists but... seNota, yeah, seVE yeah... seSiente. Blah. Blah. Blah... they all chismoseando that curious artspeak with each other and their cups of wine, deep wells of solitude, deep throat, do they know... myOmy! blahblahblah even splashing their prosecco-laced-tongues on my lenses with their unmistakable satirical lexicon or, as theyhesheus self-described it... mmm... molto fluid? superfluid, pero like a perfect collision of reality and fantasy... she said. whose? whose reality? whose fantasy? Jus?QueÉ? hey, wanna be my burlesque fantasy? ...in which we ALL live and let die...? they, they live artistically and humanly dieT... but I digress, and not before she insists that such outlandish ways of expressions are really... theirhisherour own preconceived hierarchy of cultural values and assumptions of artistic worth... so, that night, in that gallery... I met her as she said... for this is art... my psychological flirtation... then I hooked up with a tall black womanmonster looking at me across the ways... whispering to me... hey, babe, look. I am a real piece of art... then I reached over and covered her mouth con un trapo mojado de formol... for the sake of art conservation, I said laughing uncontrollably y entonces empezó la fiesta... party!this is casiunafiesta... dijo ella. como nacerenlahabanaLezama, pensé, casi, casi viéndome MadonnAndChild likeAvirginGrindingONherAss... as I heard her say: we are infinite progressions of possible reproductions... Blah. Blah. Blah... and my head almost fell to the ground as the creaturistic music slowed down in trance and then I heard myself scream... holdme thrillme kissme... 'cause i'm about to get thoroughly out of control muy muy minuciosamente.
Yes, my parapraXis todo un acto fallido, follado for the road to hell is paved with adverbs. Color dot over that. suchTartspeak. BitterBlah. Swallow that, bitch. Thick phlegm of disgust the aftermath. As we speak. Bluadjectives pee greenBlahs, you know. Burnt pages for pot-smoking deceit, she said. let's place ourselves In the bookshelf. Of the self. Y la negra me apretó las tetas y gritó: Fly your freak flag high, babe...