But it doesn’t matter. Because through this exercise I learn that people don’t pay attention. Not to what you say or even look like. Highlighted most astonishingly by the final woman to enter. She lights up when she sees me, “You make me smile every day!” This woman owns a large photo of Bert painted silver. Every day, she looks at this photo of Bert Rodriguez, not me—basically naked, mind you—and smiles. And now she is looking at me—not Bert—and smiling.
[...]
When I posed the obvious questions, Bert was ever laconic, shrugging off my queries with casual statements like, “I just did it to do it,” and, “Art doesn’t have to be about anything.” He was either a genius or a moron.
We board the monstrosity that is Celebrity Reflection and I at long last take in a cruise ship. It’s exactly a Vegas hotel, down to the nauseatingly busy carpets. I’m told the ship holds millions of dollars in priceless art. Truly, I’m told “millions of dollars of priceless art.” But the highlight of the tour is seeing Bert’s piece—my piece—Reflection. It’s a living tree suspended in midair with a metal sculpture of a tree upside down beneath it—its reflection, you see. “I just sketched something up and then some German guys made it with the ship.” Bert’s a fucking genius.
You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to have an attorney present while you are commenting. If you cannot afford an attorney, you are "Shit Outta Luck" (SOL). Anything you type here can & may be used against you in a court of law or in a personal "beat-down" administered by a staff member or "associate" of this "web log."
The publisher thanks Google/Bugger for denecessitating verification. (Not that we need explain anything to anyone.)
Bert’s a fucking genius.
ReplyDeleteNot like that dumbass, Warren Buffett.
~