An open letter to anonymous and KPG

So it seems my recent posts regarding a website that lets you paint like Jackson Pollock has sparked some controversy. If you haven't read the comments on those two posts, but mainly the second, you should. This open letter is primarily for anonymous, referring to the two people who posted under that name (could be one redundant person, but who cares?). Kevin's in there also because he comments on the blog regularly and deserves some recognition.

Before we commence, though, I'd like to apologize if I unintentionally hurt any hardcore Jackson Pollock fanboys with my posts. Sorry. They were never meant to turn into an attack on the artistic capabilities or significance of JP, and if you felt that I belittled him by likening his work to my 15 minute flash-based creation then you have mistaken me. Also, my attitude towards this blog has and will continue to be a playful one, so please, don't take it too seriously. I couldn't find pictures that would be appropriate for the tone of this post; if you visit for my picture layouts, come back tomorrow.

Dear anonymous,

I'd like to take this opportunity to respond to some of the topics you raised in your comments, and to explain where I'm coming from in order to cultivate a better understanding of my opinions on art and Jackson Pollock.

First, the money issue. Yes, one of Pollock's paintings sold for $140 million. I'm not sure (and you acknowledge this to a certain extent), however, that the price of his paintings offers an accurate perspective on the quality of his work. Just to throw a counter example out there, Spider-Man 3 grossed over $890 billion, and aside from being, objectively, the worst film of the series, it's likely one of the worst action-comedies (I say comedy because it was laughably bad) I've seen, ever. Additionally, I'm not sure which painting was sold for that price, but I can guess that if it was the same work by an unknown artist, it wouldn't have sold for a fraction of that dollar value. This has all to do with artist branding.

Once an artist achieves the fame and recognizability of someone like Pollock, owning their art is no longer about owning a great work of art. Instead, it evolves into owning a work of art that is considered great, at least in part, by virtue of the artist who produced it. And I don't mean to say that once an artist becomes famous their art loses its inherent value as art, instead my point is that what someone will pay for a product goes beyond the quality of the product alone. I understand that Jackson Pollock is one of or the most collected artist(s) ever, and I'm sure that exclusivity is another factor in the (unreasonable?) prices his paintings fetch.

You mention Pollock's importance in the art world, granting that he is "centrally responsible for freeing the canvas from the easel, the painter from her brush and palette" and the "creat[or] of a new art form." I do not aim to refute the historical impact of Pollock's art, technique, or relationship with his medium. What I would like to suggest, though, is that great art has the ability to impact an audience that has no notion of the context in which the art was made. I think there are countless artists who I would appreciate better if I had the kind of esoteric knowledge found in art history courses (not an attack on art students, I've taken two art courses in as many semesters). If I cannot see what's so special about some work without that knowledge, then, in my opinion, it's not great art. I think this is why museums have blurbs next to paintings; because art is better when you know something about it.

Forget what you know about Jackson Pollock and take a look at Autumn Rhythm. Do you see a "reflection of the cerebral?" Personally, I don't. I do, however, see the whirlings of the artist, otherwise known as the technical aspects that led to the art, and those technical aspects seem to be lacking, which was my point with my fifteen minute "replication." Not knowing anything about JP, I would probably think his fame was a joke, a hoax even. Somehow he fooled everyone into thinking he was this awesome artist when all he did was spill some paint on a canvas. And this is what I meant, focusing on the execution rather than the creative process, when I referred to I could do that artwork.

My opinion of Jackson Pollock's drip paintings is just that, an opinion. I wouldn't dare to elevate myself and say, "fact: Pollock's paintings are easy, one dimensional, and short on craftsmanship." Furthermore, many of the paintings of one of my favorite artists, Mark Rothko, are made up of simple bands of color. I would consider these I could do that, except that when you stand face to face with one, they evoke a magnitude of prominence I can't achieve with a simple flash program. All that said, I appreciate you disagreeing, and I appreciate you taking the time to put it down in writing. For now, we can shakes hands, and agree to disagree.

Yours truly and sincerely,

Ezra Salzman-Gubbay

I definitely want to encourage readers of Danger: Diversion to respond. If there's something you don't like about my ideas, attitude, or taste in youtube clips, tell me, tell the community. I think our everyday lives are too void of discourse. I probably won't be able to give everyone's comments as much attention as I have given anonymous, but I'll do my best.

@ KPG

Guess I couldn't best the Duchamp iPod.

Seriously, though.

If you've ever seen a toilet in a museum and thought, I could do that...

Fifteen minutes of continuous concentration earns you a pretty decent knock-off; sorry Jackson.

If you're shrugging your shoulders, you should read the previous post.

*Autumn Rhythm courtesy of ricardo.martins

DIY: Abstract Expressionism

Every time I go to MoMA, there are always a handful of I could do that art pieces. I do realize that even if I were able to replicate the artwork perfectly, I would still be lacking the creative inspiration or technical ingenuity that went into making the original. I know this, yet I can't help being impressed when an artist makes something that I know I couldn't compete with.

It's liking watching a game of basketball coming to its final seconds. Your favorite team is one point down. The star player drives to the net and lays up the rock for the win - woot, but I could do that. REWIND. The star player takes off from the three point line, rotates three-hundred sixty degrees and shatters the glass with an authoritative slam - I'm going to need a rag.

How many times have you looked at a Jackson Pollock and thought I could do that? Now you can. This site won a webby. Took me a good ten minutes to perfect my "drip" technique - woot.

Create art.

*I could do that photo by 416style

Meat-dealing vegetarians

The paradox of the meat-dealing vegetarian is ancient. God-fearing pharaohs of early Egyptian civilizations would refrain from dealing in dark sorcery but demanded supernatural feats from contracted shamans. Eighteenth century butchers who knew their meat was unfit for eating would sell it to the lowly peasants but refuse to stomach it themselves. During the '60s, political hippies would in-fight over the best way to protest war. Gun control activists of the late '80s took advantage of the exclusive market by selling Kalashnikovs out the trunks of their cars.

With this post, I find myself joining their ranks, but after much deliberation, I, unlike those pharaohs, butchers, hippies, and gun control activists, have been able to justify my meat-dealing. The engine behind me becoming a vegetarian was a simple calculation of the sum utility yielded from including meat in my diet versus excluding it from my diet. To avoid leading this post into a much more profound discussion than I intended, let's just say that taking into account a diverse selection of factors, I found the sum to be greater under the latter condition.

So, if eating meat yields a lower sum utility, how can dealing meat have any better an effect? Two words that have the power to turn any utilitarian argument topsy turvy -- "It's free." Our friends at Wendy's have decided to give back to investors with this sweet coupon - no strings attached - allowing my colleague at work to pass it on to me, allowing me to pass it on to you, and allowing you to go back for as many double cheeseburgers as your heart desires (and regrets after developing around its membrane a deadly yet delicious layer of cholesterol).

My hope is that we can, together, either put Wendy's out of business, saving a butt load of cows, or save a butt load of cash, because after all, it's all about the Hamiltons, baby. Copy and paste three to a page, print, and go to town.


If you end up using the coupon, especially if you end up using it more than once, please let me know by email or a comment on this post, I'd like some assurance that this isn't bullshit.

EDIT: My buddy Calvin's local Wendy's says they're, in his words, "bogus." You know what they say about things that are too good to be true.

EDIT: Maybe all that glitters be gold. Received another report that these coupons do indeed work in NYC.

*Burger photo by pointnshoot

Google takes one small step for man

July 20, 1969 - Neil Armstrong walks on the moon, tearing down the metaphoric rampart that was our perception of the elusiveness and unattainability of space travel.

July 20, 2009 - Google commemorates the event in a most bad ass way.

We all know that for an anniversary of a noteworthy event, Google will change its home screen image accordingly, and embed a link to a relevant search term. Today was no different; the home page showed some craters in the moon spelling out our favorite (fuck Bing) search engine's name, a click on which yielded a search for "Apollo 11." Nothing out of the ordinary - Google, efficient and effective as always.

Later, I find myself playing around on Google maps. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice what at first looks to me like a graphic glitch. Another moment of studying my street view dude and I realized that Google had truly outdone itself.

"One giant leap for mankind."

Diversion: Orisinal

I can't remember exactly when I discovered this gem (skip to the bottom if you're just here for the links), but it must have been sometime around fifth grade. Having grown up with no video game consoles, the computer was the best tool I had for keeping myself entertained (going outside? psshh). This was back when we used AOL (AOL? psshh) and I had just learned how to bypass the parental control locked down "Just for Kids" zone by connecting to the dial up through AOL and switching to Internet Explorer (high fives if you too did this). The web was my oyster, and I found the pearl in this site.

Most of the games on AddictingGames, ArmorGames, and Kongregate are a bit flashy (pun intended), and a lot of the time this makes for a fun five minutes, but in my maturation I find myself developing a taste for artfulness, craftsmanship, variety, and grace, all of which are embodied by the collection of flash games that is Orisinal. The simple beauty of each concept makes them more than just games.

So put the important stuff aside and get ready to enjoy yourself. Definitely worth bookmarking for a rainy day. Have at it: Orisinal.

P.S. I have no idea where the name came from - maybe a "different" take on Original? Thoughts?

Is it just me, or...

If you live in New York and you went outside today, you know it was hot.

I wouldn't necessarily go as far as saying it was hot like a camel-trodden desert, but the fact that it hadn't been this hot, and then it was, made it stand out for me, and for each and every person I spoke to today. To paint a picture, right now I'm in my undies, my fan is spinning at maximum capacity, and the backs of my knees are sweating -- imagine which crevices were sweating when the sun was out. The best part is that even though it was so warm, there were lots of peeps roaming the streets, beating the heat (triple rhyme score). If you were one of those people, I commend you with a cyber high five.

To those of you who scoff at mid to high eighty degree weather, first I say keep your scoffing to yourself, no one wants to hear it. Second I say, sincerely, I envy you. Third I say, if you use celsius, you need to become a firefighter or a locally worshipped demi-god, tonight.

All I can think is, I hope it's not this hot tomorrow. If it is, we'll take it with a smile because we're smug New Yorkers. Until then, though, it's time to catch some Zs and hope Njord graces us with a light breeze on the long trip home.

*Photos by Untitled Blue and theXenon

God Bento America

One and one half weeks ago I said I would make a Bento box of my own design. Flashes of a well rounded and appetizing lunch converged with thoughts of various extravagant food arrangements to produce an animated series of Bento fantasies. Sadly, those fantasies never found their way to fruition. However, in honor of the long weekend, I present to you my tardy attempt at a relevant, yet traditional Japanese creation:

P.S. Those are indeed fruity pebble fireworks in that homemade peach jello cup.

Would you look at the time...

12:34:56 on 7/8/09 - this requires no descriptive banter.

Three-day weekends: Fighting the good fight

Sorry to those who have been checking the blog every day, hoping for something new, only to find something old. I'm still getting into the groove of writing regularly, and to make it up to you I have a series of posts, the visual accompaniment for which will be aided (in full) by a real life arts student.

There are few things the government can do to enhance my (and Joe Plumber's) work week. After spending a good five minutes trying to come up with a short list, I realize that by few things, I actually mean no things, well, except for three day weekends. Today is July 4th, the day we celebrate the adoption of the declaration of independence. The magnitude of this day's importance in our national history and identity is so great, it's greatness spills into July 3rd, and uncle sam gives us the day off. Woot. Until this year, though, I've taken the three day weekend for granted. What I used to think of as just another day to sleep in and catch up on playing internet flash games, I now realize is as significant as the turning point of World War 5 (apologies, apologies -- in the last year I've met a lot of people who don't like Family Guy, and in the last year I've met a lot of people who don't like two links in the same sentence -- jeez).

Let's simplify the concept of war and say there are two sides, the good guys and the bad guys. The good guys are a band of boys who love to hate girls and race go-karts, and the bad guys are Nazi zombies. When the bad guys outnumber the good guys, what chance do the good guys have? Going kill for kill with the zombies just ends in loss, and our little rascals get wiped out. The key is to convert the bad guys into good guys. The goodies get a 1up, and the bad guys get a poison mushroom - double trouble for the baddies. The good guys win, and everyone feels good about themselves. (If anyone knows how to convert zombies, you have the rare opportunity to make this scenario much more believable.)

Same goes for the weekly war between weekdays and weekends:

"Wiped out"

"Double Trouble"

Three day weekends give the good guys a fighting chance. Enjoy your day off. And I promised you a bento box, so stay tuned.

*Pictures by Michele Mirisola