Art Is For Chumps

https://www.euroweeklynews.com/2021/05/29/italian-artist-sells-invisible-sculpture-for-e15000/

If you read the article, you already know the deal. If not here’s what you missed: Italian “artist”, Salvatore Garau, sold an invisible sculpture for £15,000, which is like.... I don’t know. More than 15k US dollars. 

Maybe you’re like me, and thought well, maybe it’s like invisible in sunlight, or you need a special black light or something to see it. Nope it doesn’t exist. It’s invisible because he never made anything. 15k.

Now I know there’s some art snob out there that will try and tell me that I don’t understand the piece. I’d argue, they don’t understand it. I don’t hate art people though. I think they’re the best actually. They’re so snobby because they took a couple art history courses in college, or even worse, they’re an art major. But I appreciate the move. I love convincing myself that I’m the smartest person in the room. That’s what art study is. All courses should be titled “How To Make Everyone Think You’re Smarter Than Them.” Which, like, respect. 

I’m not talking Da Vinci, or classic pieces like that. Those you can look at and be like huh, that looks pretty. I’m talking about interpretive art. Scam art. The kind of art that’s a big piece of paper painted blue with a red stripe at the bottom that people cry in front of and buy it for a million dollars. You can use words like clashing and expressionism all you want, it won’t work on me. Because I have a brain and eyeballs, and I can clearly see that somebody just Randy Johnson’d a bunch of paint at the wall. Interpretive is just another word for fake. 

You could argue that just because I don’t understand something that I quickly dismiss it. You’d be correct. Everything I don’t understand is stupid to me. But this “invisible piece” goes too far beyond logic for anyone to reasonably justify. Not to mention, the artist said it needs to be displayed in a space of 150 x 150 cm. Um excuse me? And you bought this for £15k? Adjust your monacle pal, somebody just sold you a fart. 

Despite my negative review on the piece, or lack there of, I actually love this move by Sal. Look, if you can pull off feeding your family because some rich asshole wants to be an idiot, have at it. Your next piece should be performance art where you piss on your customer’s back. You can title it, “Raining”.

Living In The Moment

Memories aren’t what they used to be. Lighters lost their jobs to flashlights, the brain replaced by a camera roll. The backdrop in pictures to big moments are no longer filled with awe-struck onlookers but with people gawking at their phones instead of the subject at hand. 

Half of the people in the world nowadays reach for their pocket when they see a potential memory brewing. Concerts, fireworks, the final out in the World Series. Majority of these people don’t even want it for memory’s sake but as some weird proof that they did and saw something. And it never comes out how it looks in person. It’s this minuturized speckly version of what you were supposed to be looking at. You never show it to anyone after you post it to your Instagram story. Not even yourself. Why would you? It looks like shit. So it just sits there rotting in your camera roll taking up storage space. 

As for the other half of people on this planet. Oh you thought you were safe, did ya? The fuckin lIvE iN tHe MoMeNt police. Shut up? Just shut up. Your holier than thou attitude makes you worse than the camera people. You’re so busy snickering about the person next to you not enjoying the moment that you ruin it for yourself. You’re not concerned about the state of the world, you just enjoy looking down at people. Like  your sneering is going to magically cause some great epiphany to a total stranger to never use their phone camera ever again. Get over yourself. 

Camera people, maybe try living in the present a bit, see how you like it. Moment police, go live in the future a bit to prevent your present self from being a little weasel. Or whatever, do what you want, I know what I’ll be doing. 

China Creates AI Software To Detect Emotion

https://www.bbc.com/news/technology-57101248

I read a lot of science fiction and I’m currently rewatching Dr. Who in preparation for when the Aliens come down to say whatsup on June 1st. So you’re just going to have to trust that I’m the expert here and you’re not. Here is my expertise analysis: this is not good. 

We’re talking about potential emotional felonies. Thought crime. The article had a section where it talks about the Orwellian parallels to the software. Which is kind of bullshit, because I was going to say that to sound smart. But ultimately, the way you’re feeling during the time of your arrest could help determine you’re level of innocence.

The AI is programmed to detect minute changes in facial expressions and skin pores. It be your own damn skin pores that snitch. The AI can detect anxiety or negatively driven emotions. But what other feelings are you supposed to have when you’ve just been arrested? What if you have to take a shit but your wrists and ankles are shackled to a chair in a Chinese holding cell? Probably make you pretty anxious, right? Now you’re found guilty on all charges.

It doesn’t explicitly state that the AI detects other emotions, but I imagine for an all-knowing robot it wouldn’t be that difficult. What happens when the results come back that the subject is happy? That’s the person that should worry you. You’ve just been picked up for suspicion of a double-homicide, what’re you so happy about? Or what if it comes back that they’re horny? Now what do you. 

Obviously there’s more to the article. It’s alleged that the test subjects to this software is are the Uyghur Muslims in Xinjiang. The same Xinjiang where it’s suspected a million people are being held in “re-education camps”. I’m not versed enough on this issue to go into detail but I will comment on the quote given by the Chinese embassy. 

“The political, economic, and social rights and freedom of religious beliefs in all ethnic groups in Xinjiang are fully guranteed.”

If you feel the need to come out and say hey guys we’re not making racist robots, surely seems like something someone who’s making racist robots would say. 

Any way you slice it, we’re fucked. They can’t even walk around yet and robots are already trying to throw us in jail. There’s only possible solution I see. If the robots are dicks, we ask the aliens to take them out. If the aliens are dicks, we ask the robots to take them out. Either way we’re playing second fiddle. But I’d take silver over bronze any day of the week. 

Man Drunk Texts Aquarium

Texting while drinking is an unfortunate technologically stemmed casualty to our society. We need texting, we need drinking, and we can’t stop doing it at the same time. I’ve deleted all of my exes numbers and social media accounts. I know myself, and I have no problem reaching out and falling back in love for a couple hours after a couple of drinks. That’s normally followed by a lot of awkward explaining and back tracking. It doesn’t make for a fun morning. It’s better to remove option completely. 

I know people who have drunk texted exes, in-laws, and co-workers. But never in all my life have I heard of somebody drunk texting an aquarium. 

The South Carolina Aquarium recently posted these screenshots to their Twitter (@SCaquarium).

It’s part of the Aquarium’s “Ask an Aquarium Educator” program. I’m not going to explain the program, I’m sure you can figure it out. 

It’s safe to say the Educator was put to the test. Ol’ Sonny up there was firing on all cylinders. His first question and last question were an hour and a half apart. His drunken brain just couldn’t quit aquatic philosophy. The Educator? Didn’t skip a fucking beat. I could’ve done without the “turtle-ly” line, but otherwise they handled themselves like champions. 

This is an actual representation of all those couples’ Tik Toks where the girl is staring like “I wonder what he’s thinking about right now, he’s probably cheating on me,” and the guy’s brain is literally like “Why are seahorses always grabbing shit with their tails?” Did you catch that little breadcrumb the drunk texter left for his wife at the end there about how lucky she is? When you walk downstairs in the morning and your lady is standing there in her PJs with her arms crossed, asking you “Who the hell were you texting so late last night?” You’re gonna say the aquarium?! Not without concrete proof you’re not. 

Drink responsibly. Text responsibly. And if you’re going to drunkenly pour your heart into your phone, make sure the aquariums on the receiving end. 

Everybody Has A Fucking Opinion When It Comes To Buying A House

There’s three pretty important things you need to know about me before reading this blog. I live in a two bedroom apartment with my recently divorced mother, I can afford to buy a house but can’t find one to buy, and I am no longer telling people that I’m trying to buy a house. 

It’s tough to judge who’s sadder, my divorcee mother who doesn’t know how to restart her life in her fifties, or her only remaining child who doesn’t know how to start his life in the first place. We make the best of it. We watch “This Is Us” together over ice cream after dinner. We find comfort in knowing that neither of us expected to find ourselves in this situation. So we’re in it together. Where the comfort dissipates is when we both start to act our age. 

My mother does things like, talk at length about the man she’s just separated from after thirty years of marriage. As someone in their late fifties tends to do. Only one small issue, that man is also my Dad. I’m not without fault. As 28 year olds tend to do, I decided to have a friend over that I had just met at a bar. There’s not much room where I live, as two bedroom apartments tend to do, and I had to introduce this grown ass woman to my Mom who was watching a recorded James Corden episode in the living room before we went to my bedroom like I was fucking seventeen years old again. 

“Well why don’t you just move out?”

Wow, wish I would have thought of that. 

For the first time in my life, I actually have a little coin in my pocket. Feels great. So I’ve been saving up for a house. Now I do have a little brother who does have his own place. He doesn’t have to worry about having friends over, and also, he has much more friends over than I do. None of that feels great. But he owns a trailer. I could own a trailer no problem. But I have money and he doesn’t. So to even the sibling rivalry scales, I need to buy a much bigger house than him since I’ll be having much smaller amounts of sex in it. 

I have the means I just don’t have the inventory. Houses that used to cost 200k are now going for 425k. So the houses that are now going for 200-300k are flying off the market in mere hours and coming in way over asking price. I have money, but only comparatively speaking to my former self. I don’t have 450k lying around. 

So I went to my best friend who’s also still living home, and said “Hey, rent costs more than mortgages right now, why don’t we split a house to split the cost. No point in renting and paying someone else’s mortgage when we can build equity of our own. Maybe we even bring in a third friend to rent a room from us to bring down our monthly bills.” He agreed. Now, I’m a forward thinker, I could see possible issues arising. So we hashed them out before we started looking. My best friend and I agreed that if one of us decides we want to move out we’ll either A. Reappraise the house and buy the other one out at current market price, or B. Sell the house together and split the profit. A pretty good idea I thought. 

Well not according to literally any person I ever told that to.

I didn’t realize that when you’re discussing purchasing a home, every human on the receiving end of that conversation naturally becomes a real estate expert. They make up mortgage rates, they somehow know when the housing market is going to dip, and instantly know what’s the best course of action for you, without any knowledge of your current living situation. I can’t exactly tell my boss who asked me “What’s the rush?”,  that I need to move out so I can try and have sex without fear of my mom hearing me from the next room over. 

So if someone tells you that they’re trying to buy a house, don’t ask them how it’s going. It’s going terrible. It isn’t an invitation for advice or criticism. What it probably is, is a feeble attempt to fill the empty air like an adult. What you should say is, “Sounds tough, good luck with that,” so both of you can move the fuck on with your respective lives. 

People Who Buy Pickup Trucks Are The Biggest Idiots In The World

I start my day off every morning by thinking about how I can go about my business without having anyone to ask me to do anything. Having a pickup truck makes you the designated first call whenever your friends/family need something moved. Yeah, I might have to cram my big ass into my little Honda Accord, but it’s paid off and nobody asks me to do shit. So why are people still buying these things?

I get it if you hunt, or use it for work, but outside of that it’s a pretty inexcusable purchase. Plus I think majority of people who have a truck aren’t handy and don’t hunt. I personally know a guy who has a $2,000 toolbox hooked up in the back of his pickup. Not a single tool in it. 

Besides being physically taxing, trucks can’t be good on the mentals either. I’d wager that if you told 20 people that you bought a new truck, 9 of them would imply that you have a tiny schmeckle. I can’t afford that kind of attack from the flank, I’ve already had to throw out all my grey sweatpants. 
I feel for guys who get giddy about their new truck. Buying a new car should be an exciting thing. But all you did was purchase a machine that forces you to do free manual labor and make people think you have a little dick. I know you want to feel manly, but it isn’t worth it. But we all know a truck guy, a truck guy won’t listen to my pleas. Truck guy is still laughing at my little white Accord. Well you have fun with your empty toolbox buddy, while I’m dragging my wrench out of a Honda. 

Exclusive Video: Did David Wells Ever Consider Drinking To Throw More Perfect Games?

Behind only sailors and gamblers, baseball players are some of the most superstitious people on the planet. David Wells is on a very short and exclusive list of players that are beloved by both Yankees and Red Sox fans. Monday was the 23rd anniversary of his Perfect Game. Boomer was off to a rocky start in 1998, posting a 5.23 era before the first pitch. So how did he pull it off?

“Half drunk, with bloodshot eyes, monster breath, and a raging, skull rattling hangover.”

He was hungover as shit. Knowing baseball players, I wondered to myself if he thought that maybe he had figured something out with this hangover thing. Was Boomer, now an 11 year veteran, thinking shit I guess I have to get hammered before every start now to throw more perfect games? So I asked him. Here was his response, along with who he was drinking with on the night before. 

Legend. This man is the best, America incarnate. Boomer and the SNL cast along with Jimmy Fallon, tying one off the night before the Perfect Game. Dabbled in the science of hangover pitching and sounds like a couple of the boys joined in to analyze the data. I have my guesses on who but it’s all conjecture. 

This is why I love this game, there’s a magic to these moments. It’s what makes it America’s pastime. I’ve had Shameful Sundays my last three weekends to the point where I didn’t want to peel myself out of bed. But if a 35-year-old hungover David Wells can stumble in at 5:00 am after a night with Jimmy Fallon, drag his ass to the stadium, and deliver the 15th Perfect Game ever thrown? Makes me feel like I can do anything.