SOME PEOPLE SAY I'M JUST LAZY, AND THAT IS WHY IT NEVER HAPPENED FOR ME. WELL, THERE' RE A COUPLE OF KINDS OF LAZINESS. THERE'S THE DON'T-WANT-TO-DO-NOTHIN' KIND AND THE STUCK-IN-A-RUT KIND. YOU TAKE A JOB, FIGURING YOU'LL JUST KEEP IT A LITTLE WHILE, AND THAT LITTLE WHILE KEEPS STRETCHING ON AND ON AND ON. YOU NEED A LITTLE MORE MONEY BEFORE YOU CAN MAKE A JUMP. YOU CAN'T QUITE MAKE UP YOUR MIND ABOUT WHAT YOU EVEN WANT TO JUMP TO.AND THEN MAYBE YOU MAKE A STAB AT IT, YOU SEND OFF A FEW LETTERS, AND THE PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW WHAT EXPERIENCE YOU'VE HAD- WHAT YOU'VE BEEN DOING. AND PROBABLY THEY DON'T EVEN WANT TO BOTHER WITH YOU, AND IF THEY DO YOU'VE GOT TO START RIGHT AT THE BOTTOM, BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. SO YOU STAY WHERE YOU ARE, YOU'VE JUST ABOUT GOT TO, AND YOU WORK PRETTY HARD BECAUSE YOU KNOW IT. YOU AREN'T YOUNG ANYMORE AND IT'S ALL YOU'VE GOT. FOR THOSE OF YOU NEW TO THE NY VERSION OF THIS CROOKED GAME I CAN TELL YOU I HAD A PRETTY SHITTY TIME OF IT, DESPITE WHAT PEOPLE WILL TELL YOU ABOUT A "GOOD RUN" AND "15 MINUTES". YEAH I MADE A FEW BUCKS, BUT NOTHING I COULDN'T HAVE GOTTEN SWEATING OVER A SINK OR A DITCH. I KNOCK MYSELF OUT MAKING THIS STUFF AND I THOUGHT SOMEONE MIGHT TAKE PITY ON ME AND HELP ME. BUT THEY DIDN'T! THEY DIDN'T! I'M PLENTY WILLING TO LEAVE HERE THOUGH; I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT LEAVING. BUT I GUESS I THINK TOO HIGHLY OF YOU TO GO AGAINST YOUR WISHES, WE BEING SUCH GOOD FRIENDS AND ALL. I SURE WOULDN'T WANT TO DO ANYTHING YOU DIDN'T LIKE. IF SOMETHING SHOULD HAPPEN TO YOU THOUGH- AND SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN- WHY, OF COURSE I WOULDN'T WANT TO HANG AROUND THE OLD FAMILIAR PLACES ANYMORE. IT WOULD BE MORE THAN A SENSITIVE PERSON LIKE ME COULD HANDLE, AND THERE WOULDN'T BE ANY REASON TO. SO I WOULD PROBABLY TAKE OFF, AND IT WOULD ALL SEEM PERFECTLY NATURAL. NO ONE WOULD THINK ANYTHING OF IT AT ALL. TO BE HONEST, YOU WOULD HAVE TO BE A COMPLETE DIPSHIT TO STICK AROUND THIS SOUL-SUCKING CITY. GIVE IT ANOTHER FIVE YEARS AND YOU'LL ALL BE LIVING IN MUD HUTS AND FAVELAS, COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW NEW YORK IS JUST A POOR MAN'S VERSION OF DUBAI. I COULDN'T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT HAVING MY WORK IN YOUR CRAPPY MUSEUMS, GALLERIES, OR LANDLORD GOO GOO'S HOUSE NEXT TO HIS COLLECTION OF RUSTY PROUVE CHAIRS. IT'S PRETTY OBVIOUS TO ANYONE WHO PAID ANY ATTENTION THAT I SET THE TERMS FOR WHAT ALL OF YOU ARE CASHING IN ON THESE DAYS, WITH YOUR CUTE LITTLE RECTANGLES AND MAGAZINE PAGES. AFTER ALL, WEREN'T THEY THE "ANTIDOTE" TO THE MESS I MADE? I CAN TELL YOU THIS MUCH--WITHOUT WHAT I DID TO STAND ON, YOUR CUTE CRAP WOULD BE WALLPAPER. ALL I SEE ARE A BUNCH OF ASS KISSING LITTLE OPPORTUNISTS DROOLING ALL OVER EACH OTHER, AND EACH ONE OF YOU LOOKS THE SAME AS THE NEXT. WHY WOULD I STAY? ALL MY BEST WORK GOT DESTROYED OR SOLD OFF, AND WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT NOW? JACK SHIT. I SPENT TWO AND A HALF YEARS BUILDING A FUCKING MONUMENT THAT STOOD FOR ABOUT A MONTH AND THEN GOT SENT TO THE DUMP WHEN YOU ALL COULDN'T MAKE A DIME ON IT. SO, IN REGARD TO ANYTHING IMPORTANT THAT TAKES UP YOUR PRECIOUS REAL ESTATE, LET ME GIVE YOU A TIP--TAKE A PICTURE. IT'LL LAST LONGER. MUCH LONGER. AND, DON'T TRUST ANYONE ELSE TO DO IT FOR YOU. I DID SHOWS FOR YEARS AND COME TIME TO PRINT A BOOK, I FIND OUT THAT ALL THE INSTALL SHOTS ARE LOST. OR, WHO KNOWS? MAYBE, THEY WEREN'T IMPORTANT, SINCE THAT PART IS "UNSELLABLE". WHO'S IT FOR ANYWAY? THE ASSHOLES OF THE FUTURE? I DON'T NEED SOME FOUR-YEAR-OLD FASCIST FLIPPING THROUGH MY SHIT IN HIS GOOGLE GLASS CYBER-CRYO TANK. IT ALL GETS CUT UP INTO PIECES AND SCATTERED TO THE FOUR WINDS. EVERYBODY TAKES HOME A SOUVENIR. AND, AT THE END OF THE DAY YOU'VE GOT A NICE CLEAN WHITE BOX AGAIN, ALL READY FOR THE NEXT SUCKER'S "SELF EXPRESSION". NOTHING I DID HERE MADE A FUCKING MARK. MY WORK GOT DESTROYED, MY BOOKS GOT SUPPRESSED. THE WHOLE TEN YEARS WAS A WASTE OF MY TIME. IT'S ALL JUST PRODUCT TO YOU, AND ONCE YOU CAN'T SQUEEZE ANOTHER DIME OUT OF IT, WELL, ON TO THE NEXT 25-YEAR-OLD PIMPLE SQUEEZER. KENNETH ANGER TOLD ME TO STAY AWAY FROM YOU FUCKS BECAUSE MONEY AND MAGIC DON'T MIX, BUT I DIDN'T LISTEN. NICK ZEDD LEFT FOR MEXICO YEARS AGO. I KEPT TELLING MYSELF THAT YOU ALL WEREN'T SO BAD, I EVEN TOLD MYSELF I HAD SOMETHING IN COMMON WITH YOU, THAT WE WERE IN THE SAME BOAT. BUT WHEN THE BOAT FLIPPED OVER YOU GRABBED ALL THE LIFEJACKETS AND LEFT MY SOGGY ASS TO DROWN. YOU DID IT TO PAUL THEK AND THEN YOU DID IT TO ME. WELL, THANKS FOR NOTHING AND HAVE FUN WITH YOUR HIGH RENT SHIT PIT. GOOD THING THIS IS ALL "ART", RIGHT? OTHERWISE, YOU'D HAVE ME BACK IN THAT UPSTATE "RETREAT", SITTING ON BOLTED DOWN CHAIRS AND EATING WITH A SPORK. BUT IT'S NOT MY HEALTH YOU NEED TO WORRY ABOUT, IS IT? MIKE MAY NOT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO HANDLE YOUR SHIT, BUT I LEARNED MY LESSON. AND, EVERYTHING IS COOL. I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU OUT, SEE? I KNOW YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE HIDING YOUR CARDS BEHIND ALL THAT SILENT STOIC STUFF, OR MAYBE YOU JUST THOUGHT YOU WERE BEING POLITE. SHIT, MAYBE YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE TURNING UP YOUR NOSE WITH THAT ACT-- KEEPING YOUR HANDS CLEAN AND ALL. THE PROBLEM WAS YOU DIDN'T STOP TO CHECK WHO YOU WERE TURNING IT UP AT, AND IT TURNED OUT THE GUY WASN'T STANDING IN FRONT OF YOU; HE WAS SITTING OVER YOU. AND, YOU DIDN'T SEE HIS FAT ASS HANGING OVER YOUR HEAD WHEN YOU TURNED UP YOUR NOSE. IT WAS A PURE ACCIDENT THAT YOU STUCK YOUR NOSE UP HIS ASS! WE ALL LAUGHED WHEN YOU LOOKED BACK OVER AND YOU HAD SHIT ALL OVER YOUR NOSE. BUT, REALLY, I DON'T WANT YOU WALKING AROUND WITH A SHIT-COVERED NOSE FOR EVERYONE TO SEE. SO, YOU SHOULD THINK OF THIS INVITATION AS A KIND OF HANDI-WIPE, AND GO GET YOURSELF CLEANED UP, BECAUSE ALL TOLD, YOU CAME OUT LOOKING MORE LIKE FORREST GUMP THAN YOU DID BARTLEBY THE SCRIVENER. OR, MAYBE YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST KIDDING AROUND, AND WE'D ALL HAVE A BEER AND LAUGH ABOUT IT LATER. EXCEPT, WE'D ALL HEARD THOSE JOKES ABOUT A THOUSAND TIMES ALREADY FROM THE SAME PEOPLE WHO TOLD 'EM TO YOU. DID YOU THINK WE HADN'T READ THOSE BOOKS AND YOU WERE TELLING US A NEW ONE? WE MADE A LIST TEN YEARS AGO OF ALL THE THINGS YOU WERE GOING TO TELL US YOU WERE "INTERESTED IN" AND PLACED BETS ON THE ORDER YOU WOULD SAY 'EM. I DON'T MIND TELLING YOU I CLEANED HOUSE ON THAT ONE. THINK I'M USING CHEAP SHOTS TO SCORE POINTS? MAYBE, THAT'S BECAUSE ALL YOU KNOW HOW TO DO IS PLAY GAMES, AND YOU'RE STILL CONVINCED THAT THE GAME YOU'RE LOSING IS THE ONLY ONE IN TOWN. IT WOULD BE ONE THING IF YOU WERE AN INFANTILE NIETZSCHEAN ANARCHIST CRUST PUNK MOUTHING OFF ABOUT HOW YOU WERE GOING TO CRACK THE WORLD IN HALF WHILE YOU WERE NODDING OFF WITH A NEEDLE STICKING OUT OF YOUR ARM. YOUR ROOMMATES THREW YOU OUT, BECAUSE YOU'RE A FUCKING PIG AND YOU BLEW ALL THE RENT MONEY ON DOPE, AND YOU JUST TOOK A SHIT IN YOUR PANTS AND YOU'RE CRYING BECAUSE YOU LEFT YOUR JOURNAL WITH ALL YOUR DRAWINGS IN IT ON THE SUBWAY. YOU'D BE AN IDIOT, AND I WOULDN'T WANT TO SIT NEXT TO YOU AT DINNER. BUT, YOU KNOW, THAT'D BE A GOOD STORY AT LEAST. YOU CAN'T EVEN GIVE ME THAT MUCH. INSTEAD, I GET A LOT OF MUSHY DRIBBLE ABOUT AMBIGUITY AND PARTICIPATION AND WHO KNOWS WHAT OTHER NONSENSE YOU READ IN THE FUCKING NEW YORK TIMES. YOU'RE WORSE THAN MY PARENTS WITH THAT SHIT! YOUR BUBBLE IS SEALED UP TIGHTER THAN THE JEANS YOU'RE WEARING. IT'S OBVIOUS TO EVERYONE BUT YOU WHO IT IS YOU'RE WORKING FOR, AND THE CRAZY PART IS THAT YOU'RE HAPPY TO DO IT. I'D SAY SOMETHING LIKE, "JESUS, HAVE A LITTLE DIGNITY FOR YOURSELF", BUT YOU SEEM TO THINK THAT HAVING A FEW RIDES LEFT ON YOUR SUBWAY CARD FULFILLS THAT REQUIREMENT, SO LONG AS YOU'RE "USING YOUR EDUCATION". WE DON'T NEED TO DENOUNCE ANYONE IN PARTICULAR, BUT THIS PARTY HAS PLENTY OF DECORATIONS. WE ARE ALREADY CHOKING ON CONFETTI. WE ARE NOT GOING TO MAKE MORE. SEE, THE QUESTION YOU NEVER ASKED WAS "WHO IS IT FOR?" BUT, IT DIDN'T MATTER THAT YOU DIDN'T ASK IT, BECAUSE IT GOT ANSWERED FOR YOU ANYWAY. ANYHOO, I GUESS THAT'S ABOUT WHY I'M READY TO PACK IT ALL IN. GOT A NEW APARTMENT WITH MY WIFE IN GERMANY--NEXT TO THE MUSEUM WHERE SHE WORKS. AND A GOVERNMENT-FUNDED ART STUDIO, THE WORKS. THINK I MIGHT EVEN GET A JOB THERE, MAYBE DOING SOME CAKE DECORATION. I ALWAYS THOUGHT I MIGHT BE GOOD AT THAT.
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Minggu, 10 Agustus 2014
Justin Lieberman: Thanks for Nothing
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