Ash's Art Appreciations, Lecture #7
Monday, November 14th, 2005 03:16 am[[ooc: Yes, this is uber early. It's done, so I might as well post it now, since it is technically Monday, yo.]]
Ash stands in front of the class, dressed in a red jumpsuithe stole from Joel Robinson's closet. He looks part smug, part miffed. He taps his pen against his chin as he waits for everyone to arrive.
"Inspired," he spits out the word rather unhappily "by certain events this weekend, I have a special topic for today's class. Now, all of you frelling knuckleheads SHUT UP, AND QUIET DOWN."
He dims the lights and starts a slideshow.
"Here is our First Slide. You'll notice that this is what some would call a tattoo. This is our topic of discussion for the class. Body modification of the inking kind. Is this art? Is this particular tattoo art? How about This one! Is that art, kids? Please, go ahead and take notes. Maybe learn something, you jerkaholics."
Ash grumbles a bit before continuing his lecture.
"Perhaps this is art? What would qualify these as art? Is it the colors, the image itself, what? Do Mere Words make a tatto art, if used in an ironic sense? What about dragons, anchors, Hearts with "Mom" on them. Are they art? They're as ubiqutous as the frelling soup cans."
Ash scribbles some notes on his clipboard before proceeding.
"Perhaps your boat is floated to the point that THIS is Art. Or maybe DIRTY PHRASES IN FOREIGN LANGUAGES."
Ash flings his pen at the back wall, before staring at the floor and taking a deep breath.
"Our Next Slide shows us more variety, yes. So does This Slide." Ash sighs. "And I've got More Slides, Yet More, And Another, and this crap too."
Ash rolls his eyes and turns up the lights.
"Right, Art? Yes? No? Wanting to own up to being the dirty kid who wrote on my unconscious body about me having sex with goats? Bueller?"
Ash stands in front of the class, dressed in a red jumpsuit
"Inspired," he spits out the word rather unhappily "by certain events this weekend, I have a special topic for today's class. Now, all of you frelling knuckleheads SHUT UP, AND QUIET DOWN."
He dims the lights and starts a slideshow.
"Here is our First Slide. You'll notice that this is what some would call a tattoo. This is our topic of discussion for the class. Body modification of the inking kind. Is this art? Is this particular tattoo art? How about This one! Is that art, kids? Please, go ahead and take notes. Maybe learn something, you jerkaholics."
Ash grumbles a bit before continuing his lecture.
"Perhaps this is art? What would qualify these as art? Is it the colors, the image itself, what? Do Mere Words make a tatto art, if used in an ironic sense? What about dragons, anchors, Hearts with "Mom" on them. Are they art? They're as ubiqutous as the frelling soup cans."
Ash scribbles some notes on his clipboard before proceeding.
"Perhaps your boat is floated to the point that THIS is Art. Or maybe DIRTY PHRASES IN FOREIGN LANGUAGES."
Ash flings his pen at the back wall, before staring at the floor and taking a deep breath.
"Our Next Slide shows us more variety, yes. So does This Slide." Ash sighs. "And I've got More Slides, Yet More, And Another, and this crap too."
Ash rolls his eyes and turns up the lights.
"Right, Art? Yes? No? Wanting to own up to being the dirty kid who wrote on my unconscious body about me having sex with goats? Bueller?"