Rock Star? No, Rock Car!

What do you think of this?  It clearly fits the “rock” theme of this blog, albeit in a way different from most of my content.  This car is “parked” outside of the Hirshhorn Museum in DC, and is … art.  Well, someone’s vision of art to be sure.  Maybe one of these days I’ll riff on what I think is art and what I think is a scam traveling under the rubric.  And maybe that day is today, at least partially.

I still remember being in the Pompidou Museum in Paris, which is a very ugly and famous museum of contemporary art (as if you didn’t know!  You’re a BRP reader, smart as hell, educated, sophisticated, and well-traveled.  But did you know that the word “condescending” means talking down to people?  OK, back to the blog).  Now, I like a lot of contemporary art, but some is, what is the word I’m looking for?  Oh that’s it, fraud that sucks.  

Anyway, I’m in Paris, quit distracting me, and they had an exhibition that included an art installation made up of various “rooms.”  As you wandered from room to room, you were treated to a different little something in each room that the artist had installed, like a pile of coiled rope in a corner.  After moving through the exhibit, I went back and started watching the very serious art patrons of all nationalities study and analyze it so closely and solemnly.  I became deeply amused at the gullibility of people.  It was crap, and don’t tell me that because this artist did it first, that somehow it transcends being just like a pile of rope in my garage.  Excuse me, you’re sticking with that story?  Ok, 5 minute break while I go to the restroom to barf up my lunch.

Phew, I’m back, and yes, I did brush my teeth.  Where were we?  Oh yes, art.  Here is some of the stuff I saw at the Hirshhorn – check it out and let me know what you think.  This is the best stuff, by the way.  The lips were interesting because they were actually part of a video projected on a huge screen.  And they talked – what about, I have no idea.  I lasted maybe 5 minutes before it was time to move on.  Regardless, while I somewhat enjoyed the exhibit, the strongest memory I have of it is of being in a pretty crowded space with a lot of different people. 

I had forgotten that, yes, while most, nay the vast majority, of people take personal hygiene as seriously as you and I, there is still a noticeable and prevalent minority who view soap and water as optional.  One dude sidled up by me, and I swear to God I thought he had taken a dump in his pants.  I’m not kidding you, I gagged right then and there.  And not just some little stifled thing, but a big time “whoa, I’m gonna puke” kind of gag.  Yup, I got some stares from the sophisticated art types at the dopey Hokie with the sensitive snout.  Oops, pardon me, i might not be as sophisticated as you, but I do wipe my ass and wash up.

Well, I didn’t expect this post to go from a car with a rock smashed on it posing as art to rapping about a dude who crapped himself, and was so proud of that situation that he decided to parade around DC with a turd in his drawers all day.  But that just goes to show you:  you came to this blog to read my shit, and this time, you really got to do it.

And with that, be clean, use that Charmin ultra soft (the official TP of BRP – one of life’s true luxuries), and be careful of parking your car outside the Hirshhorn lest you end up thinking about some guy who crapped his pants.  Flush!