Ah, you saw "Man with a Pram", the latest performance art piece offered by the Getty. Next weekend, the schedule has "Baby without a Binky", an earth-shattering multimedia presentation.
I went to Whole Foods today, but not in Santa Monica, and I did not buy couscous and did not see Per/ry Fer/rel. But one of Ca/rol Ka/ne's pugs just died, so there was a moment of silence whilst we all mourned George...
Ok, so I figured the censorship of K-le Mac---hl-n was present because, hey, maybe your friend would google him, and then happen across that post and the anecdote recountered therein, and then figure out your secret identity as the world's foremost blogger.
But no such explanation is possible for Mr J-n-'s _dd-ct--n's name being enslashenated. Unless... this is a very subtle means of communicating that you'd be interested in Perry/Kyle slash fiction?
Rembrandt gets the unique pacific fanaticism that might have characterized Jesus.
He had that look you very rarely find, / The haunting, hunted kind.
Poor, slashless Malcolm Gladwell is going to google himself and learn more than he ever cared to about fried potato products.
You don't think misspelling his last name was already sufficient googleproofing?
enslashenated
Why does that word sound as if it had been drinking? It trippeth not lightly from the tongue, but trippeth over its own feet on the way to the parking lot, dropping its keys in a mud puddle and offering its undying love - or at least a blow job - to some down-at-the-heels manque-à-être actor with a nicotine habit and a bottle of Glen Ord whisky ($10 a bottle, too dear at half the price) who dreams of being enslashenated by Carmen Electra, but has never got closer than wanking off on the cover of Maxim...
Hey, if you can land on the cover of Maxim, that's not too bad, even if it does depict you wanking.
You don't think misspelling his last name was already sufficient googleproofing?
Remember that people search misspelt words, as well.
Thank you, SB, for aiding in my effort to bring more show tunes quotes to Unfogged.
apo, I googled his name five ways and finally just picked one. I figure I'll googleproof actual people encounters, because it's one thing to have your work discussed, but it seems unkind to discuss persons when they might read it (plus, you can't be as nasty).
it seems unkind to discuss persons when they might read it (plus, you can't be as nasty)
Saying somebody was in an art museum and looked healthy seems to me to fall well short of unkind or nasty. With enemies like you, who needs friends?
Thank you, SB, for aiding in my effort to bring more show tunes quotes to Unfogged.
Any time, Joe. But my comment was forensic, too. Could Ogged be none other than Sir Ti/m R/ice?
I think that would be Ti/m Ri/ce to keep with the aesthetically pleasing pattern of Perr Ferr.
Ogged, have you read about Getty CEO Barry Munitz's troubles? If you like scandals about the other half, this one's the best to come along since that Tycho guy commissioned those ice sculptures that pissed Grey Goose. Munitz signed off on staff pink slips at the same time the Getty presented him with a new Porsche, that kind of stuff.
He's going to have to go, which is unfortunate since he has a real vision. Worse still there's some indication that Congress may get involved over the scandal (misuse of public funds), and the last time the culture warriors took a trip through the museum it turned out poorly for the art world.
And I agree that that collection of Rembrandts makes a v. good exhibition.
I didn't know about that. How annoying that he would do stupid things like that. But, honestly, as long as they don't tear that building down, it doesn't matter what they put in it; it's such a great place.
What if they put into it nothing but poo? Poo as far as the eye can see. And not high-class art poo either, just some random poo.
Thanks ogged. You've got to think about these things.
See, Kriston, that's exactly what I'm not talking about. That's, like, conceptually motivated and shit. I mean just a bunch of poo.
As far as the eye can see would make it a bit much, but the concept isn't completely without merit.
You just can't dump a bunch of poo in a museum without someone calling it art anymore.
More poo. Well, poo-related: coprophilia.