Conceptual art is where the talentless can hide yet prosper, a contradiction laced with mountains of cash. You get these cretins taking shites on Pot Noodle cups or showing the world their unkempt sleeping quarters in an exhibition, equating the display as representative of the decline and all-round decadence of Western Civilisation. It’s poppycock. You look at a Rembrandt or a Caravaggio and think, “Fuck me, I wish I could paint that.” You view conceptual works and cringe that ivory tower society could ever even write copy about such meaningless garbage.
Here is my modern art masterpiece. It’s about the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Enjoy. I expect to have this displayed in MOMA next year.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 