Re Solo Mel's sales hell.
kbudd :- >
Your infantile efforts to shock me are laughable!!
I was in the Navy for ten years for christsakes!!
Ive seen whores in Amsterdam having sex with Donkies!!
Ive been in massage parlors in Bangkok with 10 men and 20 whores!!
Are you really gay or are you pretending to be?
What disturbs me most is what sort of freak posts hard-core gay images on a
site for a teen pop band?
Probably comes from being the result of an incestuous relationship.
How is your mother/sister?
Whatever, try harder adam.
did I miss the links to your articles on rockcritics.com??
Love
Kev Budd
ad...@interlog.com
> Dear Dear adam.
>
> Your infantile efforts to shock me are laughable!!
>
> I was in the Navy for ten years for christsakes!!
>
> Ive seen whores in Amsterdam having sex with Donkies!!
>
> Ive been in massage parlors in Bangkok with 10 men and 20 whores!!
>
> Are you really gay or are you pretending to be?
>
> What disturbs me most is what sort of freak posts hard-core gay images on a
> site for a teen pop band?
Who says I shouldn't? In its way, it's no more offensive than what you're
doing...only coming from the opposite direction. Left field, rather than right
field.
This is me,
http://www.marcelduchamp.net/
this is you.
http://www.batemanideas.com/art.html
Nyah, nyah.
> Probably comes from being the result of an incestuous relationship.
Why not? I wanna have sex with your children. Who says that after having seen
these whores with donkeys and these Bangkok massage parlors, *you* never have
ribald thoughts about *your own* kids? Otherwise, you'd seem pretty
two-faced. After all, there *is* a giddiness with having sex with somebody
who's younger than your non-virginity. Maybe even sex with the daughter of the
girl who you lost your virginity with. Free your mind. Otherwise, you're just
boring daddikins, being two-faced about your past. You should be proselytizing
for William Bennett in order to get creepos like me off web and to instil
public standards of virtue
http://www.booknotes.org/transcripts/10016.htm
This is me,
http://www.marcelduchamp.net/
this is you.
http://www.batemanideas.com/art.html
Nyah, nyah.
> How is your mother/sister?
Angelina Jolie turns me on, whatzitoya. She'd slash your wife like Zorro
This is me,
http://www.marcelduchamp.net/
this is you.
http://www.batemanideas.com/art.html
Nyah, nyah.
> Whatever, try harder adam.
>
> did I miss the links to your articles on rockcritics.com??
In the site's plethora, they're *all* my articles, figuratively speaking.
Nyah, nyah.
(Besides, I know the guy who runs the site, so I've one up on you...)
kbudd :- >
I see now, you've read a couple of books on surrealism and you think you are
some sort of bohemian free love intellect.
Its plain to see by any sane person that you are probably some janitor or
maybe a clerk who sits upstairs of his mother's house every night wanking
him self stupid over pictures of kids and black guys.
Your stupid comment about "knowing" the guy who runs rockcritics.com is a
real giveaway.
Is he your friend adam? I betcha got all sorts of special friends huh ad?
"Free my mind" ?? Maybe you should try taking your head out of your arse for
a while and getting to meet some real people, you know the ones you watch
out of your window every night while you sit there in your mothers dress
with socks in her bra pretending you are Joan of Arc.
Your pathetic attempts at "shock" through your comments about my kids again
show your lack of sexual maturity.
Ever had sex with anyone with pubic hair adam?
And please dont try and paint me as some sort of "moral majority" again this
shows your lack of maturity, going to a whore does not make you a pedophile
adam, did mummy used to tell you off for reading those "naughty" books when
you were young? Or was it one of the many "uncles" that used to come calling
at your door?
Whatever, go ahead post some more of your high-brow bullshit.
Anyone reading your posts must really be starting to pity you.
Two jumps in a week
I bet you think that's pretty clever don't you boy?
Flying on your motorcycle,
Watching all the ground beneath you drop
You'd kill yourself for recognition,
Kill yourself to never ever stop
You broke another mirror,
You're turning into something you are not
Drying up in conversation,
You will be the one who cannot talk
All your insides fall to pieces,
You just sit there wishing you could still make love
They're the ones who'll hate you
When you think you've got the world all sussed out
They're the ones who'll spit at you,
You will be the one screaming out
It's the best thing that you ever had,
The best thing that you ever, ever had
It's the best thing that you ever had,
The best thing you ever had has gone away
Love as always mate.
keep taking the pills.....
Kev Budd
listening to Neil Young - Southern Man
<ad...@interlog.com> wrote in message news:3B23AB2D...@interlog.com...
ad...@interlog.com
"kbudd :- >" wrote:
> Hey adam
>
> I see now, you've read a couple of books on surrealism and you think you are
> some sort of bohemian free love intellect.
>
> Its plain to see by any sane person that you are probably some janitor or
> maybe a clerk who sits upstairs of his mother's house every night wanking
> him self stupid over pictures of kids and black guys.
>
> Your stupid comment about "knowing" the guy who runs rockcritics.com is a
> real giveaway.
>
> Is he your friend adam? I betcha got all sorts of special friends huh ad?
Scott Woods? Yes, I know him. Write him and spew if you wanna
Or, to paraphrase...
http://www.batemanideas.com/art.html
Bateman on Art
As part of a seminar on Current Theories and Criticisms in Art History, I was
asked to give some opinions on the topic of
"High art, decorative art and wildlife art, is it mere illustration?"
Another approach to carving up the art field is to make the categories Tough Art
and Easy Art. Through most of the
history of humankind art has been a natural part of the elaborated life and
therefore easy for the public to
appreciate. We see it on human bodies in New Guinea, on cave walls at Altamira,
on pots, frescoes and canvasses
adorning the walls of stately homes. Great composers, playwrights and painters
were artisans who were paid
workmen's wages for doing a job. Generally speaking, their works fitted
comfortably with society and made the world
more handsome and, in some cases, more noble and lofty.
During the 20th century an elite group has established itself as a sort of
priesthood. They see the artist as a rebel
leading the way onto thin ice and difficult tracks. The curator and critic
priesthood holds the keys to the kingdom of
"High Art". If the painting, music, literature is popular and easily
appreciated, it is of no interest to the priesthood. Now
that abstract art has become a branch of decorating, the aficionados have moved
into tougher territory of nasty art.
It is flagrantly anti-aesthetic and shuns the slightest hint of talent. Philip
Guston and graffiti art are good examples.
Most people do not find this art easy and often react with anger or apathy.
The myth of the artist as rebel really got going in the 19th century. Late 18th
century revolutionary ideals captured the
imagination of an intellectual elite, particularly in France where they were
proud of throwing out the bath water and
the baby. The 'Salon des Refuses' became legendary as did the fact that Van Gogh
never sold anything except to his
brother - and now look at the millions his pictures fetch! Is it, therefore, the
logical conclusion that everyone who does
something which he and a small circle of friends call art and nobody else likes
it or buys, it will one day be recognized
as a masterpiece and sell for millions? The Van Gogh phenomenon was a little
piece of history and not a permanent
condition.
The early 20th century saw the canonization of this myth. It was a great time of
ferment. People were sick of the old
self-satisfied empires of the 19th century - the Austro-Hungarian, the British
and the decayed Ottoman. The clarion call
of the intellectuals was "Let us take a new broom and sweep clean!". People were
actually running around in black
coats with bombs and blowing things up for the sake of destruction. All
intellectuals had their favourite "isms" -
anarchism, nihilism, Marxism, Leninism, communism, socialism, fascism and
modernism. They would pound their
red-checkered tablecloths, knock over their wine bottles and say "I have in my
hand a manifesto! If everyone follows
my manifesto, the world will be a perfect place!" Some art intellectuals called
for the burning down of all art
museums, for the good of future art.
The first two decades were very exciting. Great modernist breakthroughs
happened...Kandinsky did his Pollack
precursor in 1910-11, Picasso painted 'Les Demoiselles d'Avignon' in 1907, Mies
van der Rohe designed the Barcelona
Pavilion in 1929 and Stravinsky wrote the Sacre du Printemps in 1913. Modernism
was a magnificent creative flowering
in a very short time and was pretty well spent by World War II. The driving
force was the myth of the artist as a rebel
and the rallying cry was "If it has been done before, it's not worth doing
again!" Comfortable and bourgeois were to
be avoided at all cost. Dealers and millionaire collectors, however, dutifully
trotted along just one step behind,
hoping for a repeat of the Van Gogh phenomenon. And what was the cutting edge
one month became banal the
next. The beleaguered avant-garde was forced to retreat further and further up
the steps of the ivory tower and on to
the precarious parapets where very few would dare to follow. And here we are
today. Andy Warhol's famous
predication has come true. The avant-garde artists are dying every fifteen
minutes and the only thing that is not "in"
any more is to say that something is "in".
There was a great hey-day of critics and curators and collectors in the 50's,
60's and early 70's. They had a symbiotic if
not incestuous relationship. It was epitomized by the reign of Czar Clement
Greenburg. I well remember the day he
dropped into Toronto and deigned to put Jack Bush on the map. It was wonderful
while it lasted and luckily
corresponded with the North American post war boom. The critics and curators
were able to show how brave they
were in leading the way around the difficult and treacherous parapets. And the
status-seeking entrepreneurs
obediently provided the cash, plenty of it. Some very exciting work was produced
by the big name abstract
expressionists, op and pop artists and great collections found permanent homes.
But it, like all good things, has come
to an end.
The so-called post modern phase has been a desperate attempt to maintain a
cutting edge. Installation art and
happenings were designed to be impermanent and in most cases intellectually
impenetrable. They depended on a
grant system which flourished in the 70s and 80s. The influence of political
correctness became apparent and talent
became undesirable. I was told by a contemporary art curator that "talent had
had its turn for centuries, now it is the
turn of various minority groups to have a place in our art museums". Since most
other fields such as dance, music,
sports, etc. still recognize talent, the public seems uncomfortable with post
modernism. Because grants are now
drying up, this direction is most likely doomed.
It is futile to march behind a banner saying "If it's been done before, it's not
worth doing again!". The result was
inevitable; art produced just to be different in the vain hope of catching the
eye of a big name critic. Thus we had the
Venice biennial mid-70's show exhibiting an actual retarded adult on a chair
(until humanitarian protesters forced the
withdrawal of the "piece").
It would be as silly as shooting fish in a barrel for me to list the hopeless
one day wonders exhibited in contemporary
art museums and galleries in the 70's and 80's. Many of them might have made
decent student projects, but in spite of
their efforts to shock they seem quite futile and sadly unmemorable compared to
the giants of the 60's and earlier
decades. And there is no sign that given time the "cutting edge" of the 70's and
80's will magically grow in stature as in
the Van Gogh model. In the early 1980's I read an article by the art critic of
the New York Times. He wrote that he was
sick and tired of people pestering him with this question on commuter trains,
the subway and at cocktail parties -
everywhere! The question was: "Who's new?". In this full length article on the
front page and continued on the inside
he finally answered: "Don't ask me, I am only the art critic of the New York
Times. How would I know?".
It might be a salutary exercise to dip back into old issues of elite art
magazines from the 40's and 50's right through to
the 80's and read the criticism and reviews of the up and coming artists. Then
ask the question "Where Are They
Today?"...both the artists and the critics. It might help to put current
theories and criticism into perspective. Please do
not get the impression that I feel that art and criticism are now fleeting and
futile. Styles are fleeting but art is not
futile. There are more artists out there doing art for the love of it than ever,
and the public is more appreciative than
ever.
My view of all this is that an artist is an artist, be he/she high, low or
decorative. Artists are artists because they can't
help it - they just are and they do art for the love of it or because they can't
stop themselves. Their prime motives are
not the market or what will the critics think or whether they are "High" or
"Decorative" or "Tough" or "Easy". This is their
piece and they do not need to defend it. The buck stops with them. Take it or
leave it!
In my own case, from the age of twelve I was a serious artist. I never doubted I
would always be an artist, but never
expected to make my living at it. That is why I went into teaching as a
meal-ticket so I could paint to please myself
and not the market. I evolved through various phases in my 20's and 30's from
Group of Seven to abstract
expressionism, always depicting, even in the abstracts, nature and wilderness.
In the mid-60's (in my mid-30's) I moved
into my present style because of my reverence for the particularity of every
square inch of the biosphere. I couldn't
show biological specificity in general globs of paint. I didn't sell anything
until I was 35 and I was a full-time high
school teacher until I was 46.
When the books and articles started to come out and I began to become 'famous',
I also began to get slings and
arrows from certain Canadian quarters. Canadians are famous for doing this to
other Canadians in similar
circumstances. I guess that it goes with the turf. Sometimes the attacks were
snide and personal..."Bateman's studied
casualness, with his jean shirt, tweed jacket and Order of Canada in the
lapel..." and sometimes they were directed at
the publication of the reproduction prints of my work. There is a small coterie
of original printmakers who are very
angry and feel that if only reproduction prints would vanish, their sales would
soar. I would love their sales to soar and,
in fact, I make original prints myself and do everything I can to cultivate
public taste in that direction. Unfortunately, I
doubt that there would be the slightest difference in their sales. Their
lamentations have nothing to do with artistic
merit and everything to do with market. I have very little interest in the
market. I don't paint for prints and I have
never painted for the market, but only to please myself. There are hundreds of
wildlife artists out there who do paint
for the market but in my view that is the sure road to becoming a non-entity.
Luckily, other people sell my stuff. I
couldn't sell apples as a boy scout.
Oddly enough, the only two critical reviews of any merit came from the American
press. They were by the art critics of
the Washington Post and the San Francisco Chronicle. They were both pans, but
handled with balance and
intelligence. The Post critic said that my show at the Smithsonian was too grand
and glorious and my paintings were
also too glorious (Tough Art vs. Easy Art). He said: "Where is the dark
underbelly of nature? The death, the dirt, the
rotten weather?". He made a very good point! I do, however, sometimes paint
death (Vulture and Wildebeest, Polar
Bear Skull, Fall - Ovenbird), dirt (Penguins and Whale Bones) and rotten weather
(Osprey in the Rain) but the curator,
who was a botanist, curated all of my "tough" pieces out of the show despite my
protests. The Chronicle critic also
praised my style, technique and concepts but at the end said "...however, this
is not real art. Bateman's work is mere
illustration." He went on to say that real art was about itself, whereas
illustration is about something else. To me,
illustration has a clear meaning. It is when the idea comes from outside the
artist, as an assignment. For example, a
book publisher asks N. C. Wyeth to illustrate Robert Louis Stevenson's
"Kidnapped" or Pope Julius II asks Michaelangelo
to depict the story of creation on the Sistine Chapel ceiling. Pure,
non-objective painting, I presume, would be "real"
art because it is about itself. And so a furniture store abstract that matches
your drapes is real art and Da Vinci's "Last
Supper" is a mere illustration. It is the word "mere" that I find troubling.
When one thinks of the real problems facing the planet and, indeed,
civilization, at the end of the 20th century, the
problem of whether art critics appreciate this form of art or that form of art
or me seems so minuscule as to be
virtually invisible. Being rebuffed by one's peers in the art world is, of
course, hurtful, but that has always happened
and always will and it really doesn't matter. It is still fun to discuss and
dismember... I do it myself, as you may have
noticed.
Robert Bateman
3rd Album
"kbudd :- >" <cartm...@hotmail.com> wrote:
> Ive seen whores in Amsterdam having sex with Donkies!!
Ahh, the power of the Internet...
wssente...@ntlworld.com
> "kbudd :- >" <cartm...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>
> > Ive seen whores in Amsterdam having sex with Donkies!!
>
> Ahh, the power of the Internet...
URL please. For research purposes you understand.
--
You've just been possessed by the Dark 1 - Have a nice day!
Mr Poo Poo
How about sex with this?
http://www.pigs4ever.com/PotBellyPigPictures/Misc/virginia1.jpg
Mr Poo Poo
>
>Ive seen whores in Amsterdam having sex with Donkies!!
>
>Ive been in massage parlors in Bangkok with 10 men and 20 whores!!
>
Bet you've never seen a Teddy Bear wanking
http://members.tripod.com/hoho44/card/c17.gif
Mr Poo Poo
>
These are you 2 going at it
http://www.baba29.fsnet.co.uk/itchy&scratchy.gif
Mr Poo Poo
>site for a teen pop band?
What disturbs me is that Mel B actually tried to use the toilet....without any
success
http://www.baba29.fsnet.co.uk/adultgif21.gif
ad...@interlog.com
> 3rd Album <webm...@dancepop.zzn.com> wrote:
>
> > "kbudd :- >" <cartm...@hotmail.com> wrote:
> >
> > > Ive seen whores in Amsterdam having sex with Donkies!!
> >
> > Ahh, the power of the Internet...
>
> URL please. For research purposes you understand.
Nothing like an ass up the ass