Saturday, May 29, 2010

A Republic of Dunces

Here is my portrait of Chris Dodd near the end of Day One of annotation.

Which, by and large, is all good. But there comes the occasion, dear reader, when even a man as patient as I, feels the need to speak up.

Consider this:

Every person I handed a marker to yesterday--EVERY ONE--got the same instructions: Write anything you like but stay off the face and hair. So how big a fucking idiot do you have to be to start writing all over the hair? My comment, which begins "Note from the artist..." serves two purposes: First, to vent my annoyance; second, to redefine the outer rim of the hair for aesthetic purposes. But really, it was Purpose One that motivated me.

If my general interaction with the public has told me anything, it's that while you and I, dear reader, are sentient beings, we live amongst a herd of complete fucking idiots. Really. And I'm not talking about the number of people of who don't know who Chris Dodd is. That, to my mind, is perfectly understandable. But the people who look you in the eye, listen to your instructions, take the marker, and write something where they have been specifically instructed not to--these are the people I'm talking about.

As Ben Franklin left Independence Hall after signing the United States Constitution he was approached by a woman. “What kind of government did you give us?" he was asked. "A monarchy or a republic?” Franklin, as the story goes, responded “A republic, Madam, if you can keep it!”

I fear for the Republic.


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