I am participating in Horrible Art Monday on what I believe is a Saturday because as a creative genius whose Muse may strike at any moment, I simply cannot be constrained by things like knowing the names of days, following rules, or the tyranny of reality.
My endeavor shall illuminate this dark sphere we call "Earth" bearing the title of "Tzawhatnayah-ah-ah...ahhhhh," a semi-random string of letters I just made up, which you may claim means it is not really a word at all, but like art: if I say it is, it is.
Since all truly good modern art erupts from a well of inspiration from which only a select few savants may draw, the meaning of any given piece is naturally beyond the grasp of the limited minds of the great unwashed masses with their minute, bourgeois, Rockwellian, workaday existences.
And yet, with great talent and insight comes great responsibility to shine a light on the truth for all deluded slaves to convention. So, bearing my cross with penultimate dignity, I deign here to interpret for the uninformed that brilliant revelation which my agonized labors have birthed into this unworthy world:
First note that the entire canvas consists of a laughing child, clearly reveling in some arcade where worthless money is exchanged for even more worthless tokens which are exchanged for "gaming" time and the winning of "prizes" likely created in a sweatshop in a third world country where the children who make those prizes will never get to see a game. The irony should be clear to anyone who is truly "woke" as the parlance (I believe) says.
This child's indulgence in a carefree and happy night out is only the first step in a descent into consumerism and the attendant eco-rape that will be perpetrated to satiate her increasing demands for cheap thrills like a gaming console, eating at McDonalds, and disposable juice packs.
Therefore she is surrounded by the destruction her unquenchable thirst for boxes of both the "juice" and "X" variety has wrought upon the fragile ecosystem. And her face is turned up in ecstasy toward the breeders she will one day join to overpopulate the planet. They toast her with champagne (likely of a truly subpar vintage) as they eagerly await her ascent into the "sisterhood" of acquistiveness, sloth, and waste.
The truth of the destruction capitalist swine such as she will one day become thanks to the early training she is receiving, is scrawled in "Comic Sans" font, the most disgusting and trite of all fonts, and perhaps the only thing that could have made this revelation even more hideous than it already is.
You're welcome.
Hey, satire and art aren't my usual thing. So if you want to see an at least nominally better post of mine, please check out my latest fiction, Known.
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