7/7/06
written by Tom Brozenec
There's a little rock n' roll tune from the 70's ... an idealistic bit of hippie outrage originally recorded by the Five Man Electrical Band entitled simply "Signs". The song complains of the ubiquity of silly little rules in the culture. Things like: "Do this" ... "don't do that" ... It's a brilliant statement of protest and rage that, in many ways, was an early foreshadowing of the later genius of the Fundamental Theorem which followed some thirty years later ...
This song immediately popped to mind the other day as I entered my place of employment. Why, you ask? Let me tell you (grin): I just happened to be carrying my newly-work-issued mobile phone, a marvel of modern technology which includes photographic functionality, when what should I notice at the entrance but a sign stating that any mobile phone on the premises with photographic capabilities is considered "contraband" and is banned from company buildings. Well, I can tell you that sign only narrowly escaped complete and total destruction; are you kidding me? You issue me a phone and then turn around and declare it contraband when I try to bring it in?
Then ... no sooner had my temperature cooled to a mere one million degrees centigrade, I see another series of signs on the stairs ... about every ten steps there’s a sign posted that commands: “for your own safety, please use the handrails”. First of all, don’t ever tell me what to do (Theorem Fundamental)! Second - you think I’m a moron? I can't take care of myself? Keep your stupid signs to yourself before I tear off every last one of 'em and rip them all to shreds in a fit of peeve and fury. How many Brinks guards do you think it'd take to haul me off? The thought is pleasant to contemplate
... And just to make this BDE a pot pourri of ranting and screeds ... What's up with these rich morons who spend millions of dollars on a single painting? As just one prominent example, consider the paintings of Pablo Picasso. In recent years, Picasso portraits have achieved remarkably insane prices. His "Boy With a Pipe" holds the record for any art sold at auction at $104 million, while a 1941 portrait of his mistress, "Dora Maar with cat," exceeded $95 million this spring -- more than double the expected sale price. Have we all gone insane! Reality check for everybody: It's just a %$*&!# painting! Mere canvas and oil ... is it really worth a significant fraction of the cost of an NFL franchise? Or the market capitalization of Chipotle? I'd love to smash "Boy With a Pipe" right over the head of the spoiled, rich freak who bought it ... then rip the remains of the spoiled canvas into a thousand pieces and scatter them into a fine ocean breeze ... Only then could I walk away with a calm, peaceful smile on my face. One question for all these freaks: How many starving Sudanese or North Koreans could be fed with $104 million? Don't even get me started on the Mona Lisa ... or the French with their stupid Louvre ... And speaking of the French, I hope the Italians run them over like dogs in the World Cup final this Sunday
... Or what about Warren Buffet and his $37 billion donation to charity? Big whip, I say. What a braggert. If you really want to impress me, then give it away without a big announcement to the world (or give your entire $42 billion fortune away ... I know it's gonna be tough living on the remaining $5 billion ...). Heck, if I had his money, I'd buy a Picasso and burn it at a public viewing. I might even buy TV time for a "burn the Picasso" infomercial ... imagine the HUGE ratings. How much fun would it be to watch art critics and culture lovers swooning in panic as the "priceless" work of art went up in flames. My attitude, on the other hand, would be similar to that of Robert Duvall's Colonel Kilgore in Apocalypse Now: I love the smell of Picasso paintings in the morning ... smells like ... victory!!
Speaking of which ... There's another aroma I enjoy: that of a piping-hot burrito filled with the trimmings of your choice. It's that time again. Join us at NOON today (7 July). And (he said grumpily) can we all be on-time for a change? That's 12:00 P.M. Pacific Standard Time ...
Editor's Note: Due to lack of interest, the Indolent Kyle Summary will no longer appear in any editions of the BDE. It turns out that people (at least those who get "IT") want to read every last brilliant word of the BDE ... no cheating cliff notes versions ...