On the Arts

Since I don’t consider myself an artist, I would consider those who consider themselves to be, as fair game.

Call me a hack. A cute one, but still a hack.

I watched it last week. My significant other would not accompany me; so I watched it by my lonesome. I love Papa Piolo and Gerald! For their bodies, of course -- sorry G :) Image from Wikipedia

I watched it last week. My significant other would not accompany me; so I watched it by my lonesome. I love Papa Piolo and Gerald! For their bodies, of course — sorry G 🙂 Image from Wikipedia

I recently came across a flaming comment thread in this website. The article-writer was critiquing a film (which I incidentally love — a fact totally unrelated to my post) in a manner which the commenters thought of as unreadable and holier-than-thou. Hence the flaming discussions that followed.

Some of the commenters started attacking the character of the article-writer; other commenters came to his defense. Which made still other commenters comment on the personality of the commenters who defended the article writer. Bashing one’s educational attainment drew incendiary responses (understandable).

Then the owners of the website made a statement defending their own, which would have been commendable in its loyalty if it didn’t sound so defensive.

Dear reader, this was how World War Y started, mark my words eons from now — this is my fearless forecast.

I blame my mother on why I am not an artist.

I went into the sciences instead. Fine, not “hardcore” science that investigates the “theory of everything”, but my field is “scientific” enough that one is required to comprehend basic statistics.

Therefore, like a kid who was deprived of her Barbie doll, I am greatly fascinated by this entity called “The Arts”.

I appreciate it most, though, when it is understandable. When the artist knows what he/she is saying; and, preferably, can explain it to me in a way that that my small puny brain can grasp. Fine, he/she can use Math; as long as it’s not higher order algebra or Calculus or (gasp!) Boolean geekspeak,  then I think I can manage.

My friend, the medical doctor (MD), just said, “You know, artists have to eat … and being very sensitive people, maybe they deplore the fact that they have bodily functions; so they go through this existential drama. This tendency to sound or look obscure and “deep” can probably be traced to their unresolved issues as kids.”

Me: “Oh please, not more of that Freudian baloney!”

MD: “No, I’m saying that maybe they didn’t listen to their mom when she said that ‘Artists starve, don’t be an artist.’ ”

Pablo Picasso loved mutilating nude women. hmmm .. maybe the guy  had mother issues. From Wikipedia

Pablo Picasso loved mutilating nude women. Hmmm .. maybe the guy had mother issues. From Wikipedia

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