Are you nuts? I know, I know… It’s so difficult to tell nowadays. I wish I could provide you with an adequate test online to answer that age-old question, but instead I’m going to present you with some Rohrschach tests, courtesy of the other plasticbag…
Closer to home, and following the recent spate of publicity that this plasticbag has been getting, Davo has suggested that maybe this quote from Ian shouldn’t just be about Mr Massow after all: “It’s genuinely difficult to decide whether he’s an over-enthusiastic fantasist with a flair for self-publicity, or a charmed boy-wonder who simply needs to learn a few lessons about the way the world works.” When I find him I’m going to give him a firm thump.
Speaking of Mr Massow, the Guardian managed to mention the word “pillock” twice in today’s article about him. Poor chap’s handled this one a little badly, I fear – I don’t think anyone would protest if he said that he thought it was time that the art world readdressed itself to the needs of the general public. But instead he had to go and say that he wished art could just be “nicer”. Ouch.
Having trouble with Blogger Pro? Then you need to look at profaq.blogspot.com.
I’ve just spent a good half-hour wandering around the site of a gay guy who e-mailed me. I’ve read about his recent attack, and his nerves about his HIV testing. Although I have to confess that I skimmed through his coming-out story and spent rather more time wandering through his photo section…
It’s nice to have Mr Massow to talk about again – plasticbag.org just doesn’t feel the same without his regular appearances. It doesn’t look like I’m going to be able to make the ICA love-in this evening, which is a terrible shame, so I’m just going to have to make do with Ian’s brief history of the man himself.
And the media blitz continues with an article featuring myself, her from not so soft and that Dan Hon fella over at the BBC: I blog, therefore I am.
It’s probably not a great sign of general ‘having-a-life-ness’ when you’re sat in front of computer at half-past midnight, hear the ‘ping’ of new e-mail and start chanting under your breath, “Please be interesting, please be interesting, please be interesting, please be interesting….”
A late night ungodly and foul mood after eight hours of work on a Sunday evening with two or three more to go, summed up by a Nick Cave song featuring these lyrics:
Since I was no bigger than a weavil
They’ve been saying I was evil,
That if “bad” was a boot then I’d fit it,
That I’m a wicked young lady,
But I’ve been trying hard lately…
Aw fuck it… I’m a monster… I admit it….La la la la, la la la lie,
I’m happy as a lark now,
Everything is fine
La la la la, la la la lie,
Everything is groovy,
Everything is fine,
La la la la, la la la lie,
All God’s children…
They all gotta die
So it looks like my landlord isn’t looking to extend our lease after the end of April, which essentially means that I’m going to have to find a new flat to live in around that time – and probably new people to live with as Kate and Mella look to be going their own way. Possibly together. Possibly not. The financial consequences of finding a new flat are always unpleasant – as is the whole prospect of finding a new place, which is a process that I despise. And of course it would all be substantially easier if I had a regular full-time job to go to rather than endless freelance work.
Today I will be mostly grinding away at a tedious site build that I’ve built about a thousand times before and which I’m now getting thoroughly sick of. But I need the money.