- On the Banning of Institutionalized New Work - I am banning the viewing of new work in Contemporary and Modern Art Museums until further notice – oh you can view the genre – if you like – but I’m out – for a while – I’ve banned things for myself before – I ban things I tire-of or sicken-of – to prevent myself from developing an all-out hatred-for – and when sufficient time has passed – when I believe they will again be of value – I allow them to return – there is currently – in effect – a ban on Crème brûlée – a dessert so over-exposed – I fear it may never again excite – time will tell – another dessert on the banned list – for some years now – is Tiramisu – once the welcome pick-me-up of the trattoria-craze days – eaten now – Tiramisu is a guaranteed let you down – also in effect – is a ban on the blanket thoughtless ebay-like use – of the term “mid-century modern” – banned in the hope that – prior to it ever falling out of my mouth – I will opt for specificity and detail – and while – “I admire those 1947 George Nelson bubble lamps.” – may take a bit of thought to utter and research to understand – I believe it is a far more interesting a statement to make than the grating and tiresome – “I love those (you-know-what) lamps.” – Contemporary Dance is also banned – banned until thick-thighed women stop running in circles – circle running – contact improvisation – dramatically slow slow-motion gestures – that swing-release thing – surely the last drop of meaning – for our time anyway – has been extracted from these actions – I attempted to lift this ban – last summer – and attended an evening of contemporary dance – but dammit if the muscly-legged ladies did’t start that circle run – and within minutes of the opening curtain no less – why do they still do that? – banned – I ban more established things too – in the realm of art – there is a permanent ban on the Impressionists – as well as Kandinsky – which brings me to my Contemporary and Modern Art Museum new work ban – I’ve loaded up on new work over the past few weeks – and I have had my fill – actually – I have had my fill of new work for the last decade – but like any good soul – I try to nourish an appreciation for the arts – and I have given new work chance after chance to leave me gasping for air – oh there is the inspired piece here and there – but what boredom and pretense one must endure to find it – rooms filled with televisions – something different playing on each one – again – photographs of the raw realness of this world – again – large or small objects in repetition – again – a room full of refrigerators covered with small mirrors – a room full of suitcases – a room full of anything really – globes – driftwood – plastic spheres – trite video installations – with numbing I-just-picked-up-a-keyboard-for-the-first-time electronic music – a video of a woman looking at photographs – a woman making a pot juxtaposed with a taxidermist – a staged brutal interrogation of a blindfolded woman – in German – and then there’s the audible strained breathing that seems a necessity for any video work that explores the human body – this week I watched a video of a piano on fire in a field – it was projected onto four large video screens – in a space more than twice the size of my home – I watched – I waited for something else to happen – nah – it burned and looped and burned and looped – and then there’s the digital this and that – and here we go again – oh the reek of the interactive multi-media installation – and all so serious – and revered – most institutional new work – so oppressively guarded – one is fearful of cracking a smile even if one is amused – all the stinking pyrite one must sift through while panning for gold – for what? – a glimpse into the human condition? – the proponents of such places may say I don’t get it – I’m missing something – that I am merely pedestrian – but I don’t think so – I read every damn line the curator puts up – and if available – the artist’s statement – I am obsessive like that – all that blather about the relationships between this and that – all that haughty art-speak – all that what the artist is trying to convey hoo-hah – how so and so looks at the themes of x, y, and z – more than the works themselves – this is the stuff that unnerves me the most – the emperor’s new clothes of copywriting – in place – to distract you from the fact – that in these hallowed halls – not much new is happening – has been happennıng – someone pleas rub me wıth meat already – I think – there is so much newness in our age – why am I observing this room full of televisions again – yes – I have had my fill – and don’t pipe-in with but you haven’t seen the work of so and so – because so and so has chosen poor company – I regret the need to do this – i do – but until further notice – and perhaps an international cultural shift – I am banning the viewing of new work in Contemporary and Modern Art Museums – for a time – I shall remain open to galleries and individual shows – provided there is no copy to read — I had a marvelous dessert last night – a luscious quince – in syrup – with cream so thick it had to be knife-cut – and it was far more interesting and inspiring than any new work I have seen in a Contemporary or Modern Art Museum in some time – such beauty – I should like to fill a room with this dessert – and have people come to eat it – without commentary – period -

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‎- sadly – Clamato – and Catalina Dressing – aren’t flying off the shelves – the way they used to -

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What’s To Be Done With John Kamys

What’s to be done with John Kamys?
That blabbering dull ignoramus.
He’s rather a slob.
Does he have a “real” job?
Oh, one day he surely will shame us.

So what’s to be done with John Kamys?
He tried once or twice to get famous.
But his face was too scary!
His back was too hairy!
His antics we figured would maim us.

Well what’s to be done with John Kamys?
If we killed him could anyone blame us.
His writing is drivel.
He’s eager to quibble.
Let’s do it before he can name us!

And how shall we kill this John Kamys?
WIth his damn jokes that end in “Uranus”
We could chop off his head!
Or his penis instead.
Yes! Heroes the world will proclaim us!

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- so this guy’s like – hey – and ugh – everybody does that kind of Dead Sea pic - and I’m like – hey – and ugh – do you know how many times I have had to look at people with that damn Chicago Bean Cloud Gate thing? – tourists – we take pictures – that’s what we do -

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- Wait a minute! – Shouldn’t these dolls have grey hair? - — at San Francisco International Airport (SFO).‎

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- what a double-take prompting – comically ambiguous – headline – I found – outside my door this morning – on glance – I read it as -”"We’re F#@ked!” – whoever the we’re are -

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