"I am gonna rip you a new one."
Snarled O. looking outward to her audience.
The audience comprised a set of rabid bacon consumers who had long ago abandoned any precept of continuing with carbs in their diets.
"Because, I just don't think you get it." O. added. Maybe O. was right. Maybe K. just didn't get it. K. certainly thought he was getting it.
K. followed O.'s gaze out to her audience. His stare picked through the remains of an earlier society. People who gathered around the television set. Cuddling up next to it's fuzzy glow in some PreCambrian reenactment from our ancestors receiving the mysteries of life by the great shaman.
Just a generation ago you watched television this way. When Cronkite told you how it was that's just the way it was.
O. had this kind of control too. She knew it, and when K. looked into the whites of O.'s eyes, he knew... she knew it. The task before K. then was going to be a difficult sell.
There was an audible gasp after O.'s last statement. A collective holding in of the breath from O.'s prefabricated jury. No greater crime could be committed in the land of Miss O. than to be accused of "not getting it."
"I'm not sure I deserve it." K. tried to explain. "Fame derived from documenting my masturbatory technique for posterity by submitting a video focusing particularly on a happy endings, doesn't normally have the gravitas for a Warholian 15 minutes. Even in our internet- Lindsay Lohan pantiless, pantied, then pantiless world we inhabit today.
Nevertheless, K.'s exibition Painful Masturbation did exactly that. It garnered him an unbelievable amount of notoriety. Perhaps, it was K's honest and vulnerable portrayal of his orgasm which found resonance in the flat, focus marketed expanse of the media.
"I can't explain why everything happens in the world. For instance I have no idea why Jim Carrey's face is slowly turning into the face of my Uncle Otis."
That metamorphosis had been bothering K. for quite sometime, but there was no denying that the transformation was taking place. It was creepy, but doubly so for K.'s cousins who were big fans of Carey's work.
No comments:
Post a Comment