stupid zombies

Zombies are reanimated corpses. A corpse is a dead human being, if it comes back to life, it is a zombie. Quite simple. Of course, what makes it exciting is that zombies have a terrible desire to eat living human beings, specially brains. The possible interpretation is that of want, they want what they lack, since they are dead living corpses, their brains aren’t working and they want some. However, it might simply be a craving for life and live flesh is what gives them their reanimation.

You see, if they wanted brains because of the lack, then we would not have stupid zombies. And we do have them.

For example, about 2,000 years ago this dim-witted jewish zombie got it wrong. Though he went around scaring people (you know, by doing the zombie stuff: displaying his open wounds, moving with a sluggish, blundering pace, etc.) instead of doing the proper munching up of the populace, he asked for the opposite and started telling everyone to eat him!

It was so scary people are still talking about it.
For more info about this, click here.

Poopart

Several times, students have asked me how can one recognize “art”. I would tell them that art moves you from inside.

It is this something that pierces into you through your senses, imbues you up completely, twists and twirls your insides you until you are seized with convulsions and then… zaz! Art.

For example, every time I walk into a bookstore (or library) I need only to march up to the literature stand, read the titles and immediately I will be saturated with uncontrollable urges to take a shit. My dear friend MG experiences the same when she goes into a museum, she strolls into a room, sees a sculpture and instantly she feels a spasmodic sensation that is followed by farts and excretions as she darts to the restroom.

And so, artists undergo the same occurrence while creating art, so here, for your pleasure, a small collection:

Andrés Serrano, Piss Christ, 1989. Material: crucifix in piss.

Santiago Sierra, Sierra-Shit,2007, Material: Shit from the lowest caste of India and plastic.
Piero Manzoni, "Artist's (Poo)," 1961, Material: cans and shit.
So if this blog makes you want to puke or shit... now you know.

Myths

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I am truly fond of bugs, especially spiders. I just love spiders and their spidery eyes and long furry legs. You see, almost all of them have eight legs, except when they have been pulled off, then they have less.


There are so many myths about spiders. They say that she-spiders bite the male’s head off after copulation. It is also said that the spiderlings devour their devout mothers, and this is done in a routinely fashion, it is also alleged that they slowly munch their defenseless little brothers and sisters and it is because of such reason that the surviving spider is indeed a very savage one, a spider filled with hate and violence, that would match any beastly human. However this pure fiction, a legend, a something that is not, such stories are impossible since spiders do not have a chewing mechanism and therefore do not chew, devour, bite heads off or munch. They must inject an acidic substance and suck the liquefied victim. And everyone knows that no being that lives on a liquid diet can be that evil.
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Poor misunderstood lovely spiders, attacked mercilessly by ignorant beings who lynch and probe them. Who take hundreds of innocuous tarantulas and light them on fire, that take chaste black widows and squish them, harmless daddy long legs driven off cliffs. So so much cruelty to the poor innocent misconstrued spiders.


And in Cambodia, they fry them up and eat them. Psshhh.





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