Tuesday 25 June 2019

Bukkakunstart from Khaantgrants in our faces

Morgoth's Review: Yorkshire Gets A Modern Art Punishment Beating: Yorkshire's summer season of sculpture is one of the most hideously warped and delusional excuses for ''art'...

One of the great things about welfare scrounging talentless bitchpainters and boymessers is that they are so talentless and numbed by success they cannot see how likely they are to be first on the spit when the lights go out. They cannot help themselves but get skylined every moment of every day.

Don’t get me wrong, I agree with Sheridan that the artists are the first ones to warn the rest of us of doom approaching but that is real artists, you know, the one’s with talent.

Anyway one day, just before that last BBQ, the committees that dole out the free money we get to carry as odious debt, should be taken to the beach and left, with their pet fartists, up to their necks in the sand. Everyone who wants to can them come and wank in their faces. Now that is an installation worth being.

Then the poets can get a similar exercise in self pubicsplishing. Tie them naked to a pole, surround them with their works and hit them with the infrasound. Oh boy the outpourings of juicy creativity, queefart, laureate manoil, ladytbatter, queerblather and public ridicule would be a wondrous creation. Truly Davincean in its mixing of media. Stenching in drizzle drivel.

I could do better blowing a five note gale out my buttuba after a good saagwala murg and 10 pints of Cralsberg Export. Anytime, any surface, pungent 4D faartart. For FREE.

Stick it up Saatchi’s shitter, rotate and hang from a gallereetree.

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Voyoy cheeky, leave us a deadletteredroped..