Yoko Ono

I (BMcC[18-11-46-503]) abhor resent this [fill in the blank]. Her face even reminds me of the self-important tattle-tale manager I had at The Baltimore Musuem of Art who whined to the muesum's self-styled "old Army man" Director, Charles Parkhurst, about me taking all the fun mail in the office each morning before she got her smiling face and two couch potatoes in the door. Barbara Krizack and Yoko Ono. Two bitches!

There are two people in the art world (ab-world?) I really do not like: This woman and the War hole, Andy. But in very different ways: Mr. Warhol looks like or at least tries to act like he is mentally retarded. He said that anything a lot people like has to be good or else they wouldn't like it. A little Volodymyr Oleksandrovych Zelenskyy of Soho? A bug to be squished beneath a shoe sole. (There is one artist whose work I strongly dislike: Hans Bellmer's pornographic dolls, but I have no negative feelings about the artist himself. I am repulsed by baby dolls in general and his are eggregious.)

Ms. Ono I am jealous of: She has had the life I should have had. Who knows: I might have done better with it? She shows no humility for Fortuna having blessed her (and not me). She does not try to be a mentally retarded garden slug – oh, well, that gets us back to somebody else I actually worked for. Yes, I am jealous of you, Mrs. Lennon.

Laurie Anderson is another one of these people who got rich and famous for conceptual art. But I never wanted to be her, in part because he seems asexual (is she real or is she Memorex? she probably is not sexless in reality?). Another celebrity. I like[d] the lyrics of her multimedia United States I-IV, but not her. Excerpt: here dedicated to Mr. Joe Biden and his [fill in the blank], TV Commando Z:

"Good evening. This is your Captain. We are about to attempt a crash landing. Please extinguish all cigarettes. Put your tray tables in their upright, locked position.... This is your Captain: We are going down. We are all going down, together.... And I said: 'Uh, oh. This is gonna be some day.' Stand by. This is the time, and this is the record of the time...."

I seem to recall I actually attended the performance back in 1984, at some Beaux Arts building in Brooklyn, New York^[1], but I no longer remember clearly. Just some of the words, including also (another description of Mr. Biden?):

"I met this guy and he looked like he could be a hat check clerk in an ice rink, which, in fact, he turned out to be. And I said: 'Oh, boy, right again'. Let X equal X. You know, it could be you...."

No, I would not want to go to bed with Ms. Anderson (a cold fish?), unlike Ms. Ono. But, as my sometime IBM manager told me when I asked for a work assignment that would be both productive for the company and growing for myself:

"If wishes were horses then beggars would ride."

Thanks for reading. Here endeth the present BMcC[18-11-46-503] conceptual artwork. It is what it is. bmcc.edd@gmail.com