Hoping for third time lucky at the maison communale today. Belgian institutional incompetence still not getting to me - much. Not as much as the economy, as I wrote about 131 more layoffs yesterday and there are strong deflationary pressures deflating things. Including the British pound, which is actually approaching euro levels. Can you fucking believe it? I can't. Do you fucking care? I do. We're going to London next week - I have a conference, and then a date with Rodelinda, and the F-word and I both want to see the Francis Bacon exhibition at Tate Britain. Skipping the Turner Prize exhibition, though we could get a bundled ticket for a mere extra GBP 2.5 or EUR 2.9. It's not that we dislike the sort of things they have on display, it's just that there's no reason in heaven, hell, or in between to pay EUR 2.9 to look at the sort of things they have on display.
And looking at the things they have on display, I must point out I do actually dislike the things they have on display. Crawling up the asshole of something that had already crawled up its own asshole and died. It would all just be a ghastly joke, except there are actual artistic endeavours rolling out all over the world that aren't unbearably boring and masturbatory, and that don't rely on relentless, unimaginative referentialism and the least intriguing and involved symbolism possible for their impact or appeal, and that would benefit by a fraction of the attention this ridiculous, expensive Guarniad joke garners for assholes so mentally and aptitudinally debile they rip off Jeff Koons.
Anyways, I'm off to queue now.
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