I think there should be a international standard against eating fish in cubicle spaces. And I think you know why.
The New York art world is astir again with an exhibition of a work titled Yo Mama’s Last Supper. What I always fail to understand when conservative bigot Christians protest their ‘messiah’ being iconized as a gay man, a black woman or anything less than an aryan is that underneath their protests is also the thought that these images could affect their faith and the faith of others. They are giving this media they find offensive so much power by doing this. It is like burning the flag. Go ahead – roast marshmallows with it for all I care – my beliefs in free speech and liberty and yadda are not hinged on a piece of cloth. A symbol is invested in folks. A symbol is agreed upon by everybody to mean something. Garge with holy water, wipe your ass with the Bible if it gets you off – WHO CARES. That’s like someone telling me I ruined Antigone with my adaptation of it. Or if I directed Hamlet in some new strange way. The stories will survive. Nothing I can do to Hamlet is going to make it less important or distract from it’s literary value. I’m just a boring old guy from Indiana – what the hell do I have up against Shakespeare?