The first conference of the International Dada Centennial Committee is over. Did we at least come up with any new anti-art? Mostly we came up with anti-me. First of all, there were objections to my posting physical descriptions of the attendees. One even suggested that I was in the early stages of Alzheimer's for not knowing that they would all pull out their laptops during coffee breaks and read about themselves almost as soon as I wrote. Number three was amused at my suspicion that she is a lesbian.

"I get that all the time," she said. Her husband, on the other hand, was livid. He read it and called her on the cell phone. I could hear his threats from across the room. "Cool your jets, Vinnie," I heard her tell him, "Get a sense of humor. Do it now."

Number six started giving me funny smiles all the time. It was terribly embarrassing. Number four announced he was trying to be an ex-gay and did not mind the whole world knowing about it. He was one of the few who had no objections.

Number ten pretty much took over as leader of the conference. That was just fine with me. At the end, the bottom line was, believe it or not, a consensus: We do not have to wait thousands of years for the Earth to evolve a sentient life form that is capable of defending itself without an instinctive love of committing senseless mass slaughter on battlefields. This sentient life form is already with us. And it is not artists. It is women. To be continued.