I welcome everyone to the first conference of the International Dada Centennial Committee. I inform them that here there are no rules.
"That's a rule!" interjects #10.
Aha. A troublemaker. I was worried from looking at this crowd that we might not have a single troublemaker. It has occurred to me that while Dada is still, a century later, pretty hip, coming to a meeting of the International Dada Centennial Committee is not. The ten attendees struck me as accordingly square. Therefore boring. That is alright, for I have always had a high tolerance for boring people. This may be an extension of my childhood preoccupation with my insect collection: boring people come in as many different types as Coleoptera (beetles).
"I stand corrected," I tell #10.
"Is there any such thing as correct?" asked #2, in a not unfriendly way, "I mean, you know, like correct as opposed to incorrect, truth as opposed to falsehood. I think truth has been overrated."
Everyone is suddenly silent. I see at least two furtive glances in the direction of #8, who has admitted that she believes the Bible to be true. I break the silence by soliciting comments on the core idea introduced by Dada, that art has a duty to trick mankind into not committing senseless mass slaughter on battlefields.
"How many of us are artists?" I ask, raising my own hand (I make abstract-surrealist collages, xerox them and paint the photocopies. Xerox company will now be angry with me for endangering their copyright by tossing their name about generically. I feel evil. Every once in while I need to feel just a little evil. Xerox! Kleenex! Band-Aid!).
Five others raise their hands. #1 is a musician, #2 writes poetry, #3 writes fiction, #8 paints, and #9 seems to be trying to hide a smile as he says, "I do all sorts of stuff," and takes a drag on his cigarette. It is a hand rolled cigarette. I secretly hope he turns out to be a trouble maker too. Too many troublemakers can destroy a group. But too few can as well, especially if the non-troublemakers have no clue as the fact that they are destroying it.
I am left wondering what is the story with #6. She is not an artist. What is she, besides drop-dead gorgeous? I hope she turns out to be real boring, and real soon. It is nerve wracking to be constantly worrying that you will say something stupid in front of some member of the opposite sex. If she is real boring, I will relax a little. So far so good. Relaxation relieves stress. Stress shortens human life. #6 does not know that she is secretly killing me. Or maybe she does know. Maybe that is an art form in itself: Be drop-dead gorgeous, then walk into a room and the middle aged men start dropping dead. Turn around, walk out, find another room and do it again. Stranger things have been called art.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
We Meet Face to Face
The International Dada Centennial Committee is having its first conference. Cultural Terrorist will be minuting the event in the blog. In attendance are ten individuals, all of whom will be anonymous, regardless of whether they wish to be anonymous. I will go so far as to describe them, physically and otherwise, but will only call them by number in the order that they sit in a circle, clockwise from my left.
#1 is male, about five nine, very thin, longish dark hair, eyeglasses, wispy beard, mid twenties, dressed all in black.
#2 is female, about five five, medium build, long auburn hair, thirtyish, long dark green floral print skirt, sandals with thick, hot pink socks (it is January), mauve sweater into which her rosy face seems to blend.
#3 is female, short, rounded figure, salt and pepper hair cut very short, fortyish. She dresses in a masculine sort of way. I am fairly certain she is a lesbian until she mentions her husband several times. Maybe it was the thick Brookyn accent that made her seem... I don't suppose this is any of my business... especially if her father is in the Mafia.
#4 is male, short, slight build, blond, a pretty sort of boy, looks to be about twenty two, pale olive green turtle neck, khakis, penny loafers, shy, nervous, twiddles this thumbs. I need to ask him where he got the penny loafers. I did not know they still made them.
# 5 is male, about five eight, stocky, probably muscular, thick wrists, gray hair, balding, vaguely middle aged, wears a dark gray tweed jacket. He makes a point of telling us, perhaps a little defensively, that he is openly polygamous, numbering his wives at four, "so far."
# 6 is female, about five seven, very thin, disturbingly pretty, shoulder length mouse brown hair, late twenties, dark maroon velvet jacket, white shirt, faded blue jeans, tennis shoes, white socks, large intelligent eyes the color of clover honey, or is it buckwheat honey? Definitely darker than sourwood honey. Crosses her legs and moves her toe up and down as if keeping time with some internal music, adagio. Beethoven's "Sonata Pathetique?" A soft, friendly pink mouth like....I really ought to shut up about #6 lest my wife read this and pepper me with irrelevant questions.
#7 is male, tall, thin, hair the same color as the eyes of #6, next to whom he sits, dressed rather expensively, I think, paisley tie, jacket also the same color as the eyes of #6, (I really must shut up about her), strikes me as a dandy, so to speak, very chatty, animated, thirty something.
#8 is female, also in her thirties, a bit plump, extremely long dark hair, long black skirt, brick colored sweater, asks whether it is okay that she is a Bible believing christian. Everyone nods enthusiastically.
#9 is male, average height, average build, bald, in his sixties at least, rimless glasses, quiet, gray suit, white shirt, no tie. Asks whether he can smoke. Everyone nods enthusiastically except #2, who just sighs in acquiescence.
#10 is male, very short, very thin, very bald, probably prematurely so, pushing forty, wears expensive looking blue jeans, expensive looking cowboy boots, black turtleneck sweater, intense pale blue eyes.
The meeting is called to order.
To be continued...
#1 is male, about five nine, very thin, longish dark hair, eyeglasses, wispy beard, mid twenties, dressed all in black.
#2 is female, about five five, medium build, long auburn hair, thirtyish, long dark green floral print skirt, sandals with thick, hot pink socks (it is January), mauve sweater into which her rosy face seems to blend.
#3 is female, short, rounded figure, salt and pepper hair cut very short, fortyish. She dresses in a masculine sort of way. I am fairly certain she is a lesbian until she mentions her husband several times. Maybe it was the thick Brookyn accent that made her seem... I don't suppose this is any of my business... especially if her father is in the Mafia.
#4 is male, short, slight build, blond, a pretty sort of boy, looks to be about twenty two, pale olive green turtle neck, khakis, penny loafers, shy, nervous, twiddles this thumbs. I need to ask him where he got the penny loafers. I did not know they still made them.
# 5 is male, about five eight, stocky, probably muscular, thick wrists, gray hair, balding, vaguely middle aged, wears a dark gray tweed jacket. He makes a point of telling us, perhaps a little defensively, that he is openly polygamous, numbering his wives at four, "so far."
# 6 is female, about five seven, very thin, disturbingly pretty, shoulder length mouse brown hair, late twenties, dark maroon velvet jacket, white shirt, faded blue jeans, tennis shoes, white socks, large intelligent eyes the color of clover honey, or is it buckwheat honey? Definitely darker than sourwood honey. Crosses her legs and moves her toe up and down as if keeping time with some internal music, adagio. Beethoven's "Sonata Pathetique?" A soft, friendly pink mouth like....I really ought to shut up about #6 lest my wife read this and pepper me with irrelevant questions.
#7 is male, tall, thin, hair the same color as the eyes of #6, next to whom he sits, dressed rather expensively, I think, paisley tie, jacket also the same color as the eyes of #6, (I really must shut up about her), strikes me as a dandy, so to speak, very chatty, animated, thirty something.
#8 is female, also in her thirties, a bit plump, extremely long dark hair, long black skirt, brick colored sweater, asks whether it is okay that she is a Bible believing christian. Everyone nods enthusiastically.
#9 is male, average height, average build, bald, in his sixties at least, rimless glasses, quiet, gray suit, white shirt, no tie. Asks whether he can smoke. Everyone nods enthusiastically except #2, who just sighs in acquiescence.
#10 is male, very short, very thin, very bald, probably prematurely so, pushing forty, wears expensive looking blue jeans, expensive looking cowboy boots, black turtleneck sweater, intense pale blue eyes.
The meeting is called to order.
To be continued...
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