Paradise Lost; Apartment Found
I was reading the NYtimes’ Complain Box tonight, and the current article is about a trip the author had taken with his children to P.S.1., one of his favorite places to view contemporary art in NY. Unfortunately the trip turned sour when they were suddenly ambushed by a bunch of dicks and pussah’s all over the place. Well:
We quickly encountered what appeared to be an indoor swimming pool- only it turned out to be an illusion (A glass sheet mounted in the floor, with a bit of water runing over it.). A stairway made it possible to see the pool….my kids ran up and down the stairs a dozen times, gleefully posing for photos. It was the exactly the kind of playful installation that I take them to museums like P.S.1 to see.After five minutes, they asked if there was anything else…they’d like…I didn’t know, so we checked out the exhibition across the hall…Two minutes later, I saw something alarming over my right shoulder: a giant photo of Katie Couric delivering the evening news with her genitalia exposed.
Funny, I’d come across that same giant photo not too long after reading the article.
The author continues on about how, though he is against censorship, he feels that there should have been a more clear warning regarding Couric’s flaming news labia. His reason? A “harried parent” wouldn’t have noticed the small printed sign which warned of the 18 plus. But when did it become a museums responsibility to make sure that children don’t come across lewd paintings? and I use that term extremely loosely because it is a fucking museum. Does it have something to do with the fact that paintings typically hang about 3 to 4 feet high, which inevitably leads to a childs head being level with cock, pussy and/or ass? Irregardless, a harried parent shouldn’t bring their child to a museum. A harried parent, with children with a ton of energy to expel, should bring their child to a park, or a pool. Not an illusion of a pool. I’m all for bringing your kids to the museum but perhaps P.S. 1 isn’t necesarily that educational oasis of child distraction in a sea of mind numbingly bland parks and playgrounds. I was brought up on the MET and the Natural History museum. They may not be genitalia free, but if you’re not okay with your kid seeing a nude oil, or statue, then maybe the reccenter should be your next destination of choice.
The author concludes
Do New York museums really want to make parents scared of what their kids will see around the corner? I propose this rule: The warning signs should be at least as large as the exposed genitalia.
Do New York parents really have so much wreckless abandon as to let their kids run wild in a contemporary art museum? I think the author should just be glad that the signs aren’t as big as his genitalia. In which case they would look something like this:
In other news, I found an apartment. Good bye alleyway, hello Brownsville! Just kidding. I’d never live in that broke ass ghetto. (Sorry Brownsville, you know you’re my boo.) Instead, I’ll be living a stones throw away in Bed Stuy: A Step Above the Rest. Just kidding+1. Their motto is Bed Stuy: Do or Die. As in kill or kill yo’self cuz you a pussay, ya pussay. At least I’ll be able to tell my kids I lived in Bed Stuy pre gentrification. CUZ IM REAL LIKE THAT