"I am a middle-aged gay libertarian Conservative, living in dignified isolation in rural Eastern Ontario, Canada"
I am a fat, lonely, untraveled, un educated, self loathing gay hick Philistine, whose political understanding of the world was aborted in its infancy.
There i fixed that for you! You're welcome.
I can't let that by without a response, so in the interest of intellectual dialogue about the eternal truths of art, here it goes:
I noticed that you cleverly extrapolated from my brief statement about being a middle-aged gay conservative living in rural Canada that I'm a "fat, lonely, un educated [sic], self loathing gay hick Philistine". I'm going to return the favour and hazard a few guesses about your background from the brief clues that you've given me in your comment.
You are presumably annoyed by the fact that I didn't like the sculpture Survival of the Fattest that was on display during the COP 15 conference in your beautiful country (which, despite you accusing me of being untraveled, I have had the pleasure of visiting). I take it that you sympathize with the piece's political message about the "rich world's self-complacent righteousness". I presume, then, that you are in your late twenties or early thirties, spent six or seven years studying for a four-year degree in sociology (or perhaps psychology) at some liberal-arts college, and are still hanging around your parents' basement until you get your shit together and pay off your student loans (or do you even have to pay back student loans over there in the worker's paradise of Scandinavia?). In the meantime, you and Sven and Ingrid have put together an anarcho-latin-punk band and are working as barristas at the Ringsted Starbucks while you are perpetually "between gigs".
You accused me of being "untraveled", and you should know since you yourself bought a Eurail pass and backpacked around Europe when you finally got out of college, hooking up with loose women of questionable hygiene while making fun of American tourists. You were thinking of heading to Nepal on a whim to sample the organic shade-grown fair trade hash but met up with a bisexual performance artist/waitress in Amsterdam and spent a month in a squat with your lips permanently attached to a bong. When you emerged from the haze you had a dose of penicillin-resistant gonorrhea and your Eurail pass was gone, so it was back to mummy and daddy.You say I'm a "self loathing gay hick", which makes me wonder if you have some issues about your own sexual identity. You are resolutely and flamboyantly straight, but some of your best friends are gay, and there was that one time in college when you and your room-mate Peter got wasted on 'shrooms and, well, one thing led to another. The fact that your mother & father wonder why you've never had a steady girlfriend doesn't mean anything - you're probably just not ready to settle down.You know, you took that course in "race, gender & class stereotypes in post-colonial Danish literature", but you still seem to harbour some deep-seated animosity towards the "other" - let's take a look at the semiotics of your brief comment. Middle-aged = fat. Rural Canadian = lonely untraveled Philistine hick. Gay = self loathing. Jesus, Lars - get a grip! I think you need to take a night-school course in Marxism and the LGBT Barrista Experience to refresh your left-wing bona fides. Maybe between gigs you can organize a protest against the Danish occupation of Greenland or something - your karma definitely needs adjusting.Thanks for taking the time to write - I always enjoy intelligent dialogue with my readers. Aside from that, how did you like the sculpture?Regards