I’m not happy that Susan Saradon got vomited on.
I don’t care that the performer is a transsexual.
I am, however, deeply baffled that projectile vomiting is considered art.
WTF x infinity.
This passes as art? Because I’m totally sure there are plenty of mothers who would be totally happy to set up a camera in their bathrooms during flu season and You Tube all the vomit. Heck, I bet they’ll set it to music.
Meantime, WTF? I used to got to the Nightclub 930 in DC all the time. The place reeked. There was a SMELL. Vomit, beer, poo, sweat and something. You know a place where the performer regularly “engages” in projectile vomiting REEKS.
That leaves me with two thoughts:
A. I don’t think I’d like the majority of celebrities if I ever did meet them. I mean, what do you have to do to yourself to get to the point where you LIKE vomit shows?
B. I really hope to God that the stimulus and the NEA did not fund this. I will be quite put out. Especially because I pass a corner in PG on my way to work where I’m totally sure people who enjoy this sort of thing could get their vomit-watchers on and not have to pay a dime. Or even a redesigned penny.
So, if liking vomit art means I am a good art lover, color me a hopeless Philistine.